Be Careful What You Wish For
by ASSAULTIER
Summary: Lost in a world unlike my own, I'm forced into following what was once code and programs into a battle for the fate of galaxy. What will I do? What will happen? Join me in my journey through uncharted territory alongside Shepard and her team against the Reapers. Starts from Mass Effect 1. Chapter 1 has been rewritten... May contain references to my other fanfics...
1. Somewhere I'd Rather Not Be

**Chapter 1 : Somewhere I'd Rather Not Be**

**I've decided to do a proper rewrite of the story beginning with fleshing out the chapter a little bit more and giving it some extra legs to entice people. As I've said before, the previous chapter was a test to see how my writing held up in canon. Now that I have that locked down, this one will be a proper chapter. Now, on to the show…**

You know how they say, "Be careful what you wish for?"

They were right. Wishes are like a double-edged sword. They sound fun in theory but in practice, they are wrought with responsibility and consequences practically none of us could pick up on when we were just children. I think it's because our young minds are still naïve and so innocent that we remain blind to the true way of the world until much later in life.

Perhaps I should provide some context to this. I was one of those kids. You know those kids. The ones you see getting their lunch money stolen, humiliated repeatedly in front of their peers, having pranks pulled on you. On the first day no less! What's even worse was the fact that even the geeky and nerdy kids who could potentially sympathize with my plight on some level also shunned me from their social circles. I was basically a social pariah during my years in high-school. It would have been much worse had I not had my two siblings standing by my side.

Ah, yes. My older brother Matthew and my younger sister Erin have been the cornerstones of my life from our childhood years to the time of our graduation from the hell that is high school. We were a unique trio, due in no small part to our inherent bond with one another and the fact that both were willing to take a popularity hit by associating with me when so many others would not. Sure, we've had our ups and downs but we care for one another in a way few other families could claim to. Even still, it was quite lonely those formative years, changing me from a easy, outgoing kid into a lonely, shy introvert who spent hours in his room rather than with his family. That's when I came across the video game series known as Mass Effect.

I still remember my 15th birthday when my gaming-addicted uncle came to the house one day with the game wrapped up in the kind of wrapping paper you could easily find down at the local store, topped off with a festive ribbon to boot. As soon as the disc popped into the console and the words flashed upon the screen right in front of me, I knew I was hooked. I spent hours on end that year customizing my Shepard and creating my own mark in the world, albeit a virtual one. Even my siblings joined in on the fun. I still picture Erin going instantly for the face punch when dealing with that awful reporter or when Matthew joked during one of… ahem… 'love' scenes that he was going to close the deal when he was old enough. Not to say that they joined my activities. Matthew was more into sports than I was and there were a lot of nights when Mom would chastise us for turning their house into a Nazi gas chamber with our foul-smelling odour. And don't get me started on Erin's tea parties when she was a young kid. Quick tip though, don't walk outside before you've cleaned your face after one of those parties. I swore that every neighbor who stared at me thought that I had gone into an awkward phase where I started looking goth-like.

This addiction eventually formed over the course of the three games, launching my interest and passion into the gaming universe proper. Since then, I've also had a chance to flex my writing muscles and create some fanfictions of my own to share my vision with the rest of the world and to see what stories could result from other people as well. It became my secondary addiction, losing myself in the stories created by people like claihm solais, DelVarO, GIRLIKESTACOS and many more. It was that point that I myself wondered; what would it be like to live in such a rich universe?

If only I had been wiser…

It was the year 2013 by this point. Matthew was busy overseas, working on his latest project as an architect for one of the biggest firms around. Erin had only just finished high school recently, which was a fantastic ceremony by the way, particularly her valedictorian speech about facing the harsh realities of our ever-changing world. I on the other hand have only brushed the surface of college life, going on my second year. In addition to that, I took a part-time job at a local convenience store in order to do my part to ease the financial burdens our family faced in the wake of the economy downsizing. It was an arduous task but one I diligently kept to for the sake of my family. It was moving on into the evening one day and I was walking home from another long day of both school and work, my arms loaded with papers and notes. To say I was exhausted at that point would be a gross understatement. As I finally sighted my house in the distance, my face turned its frown upside down at the thought of finally being back in the company of my loving family. That frown quickly returned when I tripped over something and fell face first on the grassy lawn of my neighbor. Cursing in pain, I rubbed my stomach to ease the pain when my eyes caught a glimpse of something purple in the crevices of my vision. Sitting inconspicuously in the middle of the garden was a small purplish-pink crystal which shimmered in the dimming rays of the sunset across the night sky. My curiosity piqued, I bent down to touch the crystal myself, ignoring the risks of toying with the unknown.

At my touch, the crystal started to shake and rattle in place, the pink hues slowly dissolving and replaced instead with a white, blazing glow that blindsided me, causing me to hold my arms up to my face to block the harmful rays from my sight. It was only when I felt that same energy wash over me that I realized it was an actual crystal of Kronostyl-2, a substance I had used countless times in my previous works. Almost immediately, I knew where this was going. The crystal glowed brighter and brighter till finally it shattered into millions of tiny fragments, covering the air around in possibly lethal projectiles. It just so happened I was in the blast zone. The fragments dug deep into my flesh like a knife through butter, embedding itself into the palms of my hands and drawing a gushing fountain of blood. As I screamed lously, piercing the silence, clutching my bloodied hands in agonizing pain, my eyes fell upon another phenomenon copied detail by painstaking detail from my work.

A massive black hole with a purple hue emerged from out of nowhere and began sucking everything not properly tethered to the ground. First, the mailbox ripped itself from the ground and flew in a dizzying pattern into the gaping maw, lost forever to its vast emptiness. Next were the gnomes and the pink flamingoes our neighbors thought made the lawn look cool and unique. I was not sad to see those tacky ornaments from the 1960s go. In my opinion, those things just looked downright creepy every time I passed it by on my regular commute. Inevitably, gravity failed to keep me grounded and only an instinctive grab of the corners of the pavement saved my hide for the moment. My feet left the ground and flayed whimsically behind me while my blood-soaked fingers would not yield its foothold on the pavement, desperately trying to hang on. All of a sudden, fate decided the final blow when a minivan was dragged into the wormhole and took me along for the ride by slamming headfirst into my helpless body. With a final scream, I fell deeper and deeper into the wormhole till its entrance no longer held court in my vision. My descent was complete. Only the destination remained unclear. Wherever it was, it could not be good. My eyes struggled to remain open, but whatever power that resided over this occurrence snapped them shut, closing me off from the world and sending my mind into oblivion.

"Hey…" came a concerned male voice.

"Hey! Are you okay, pal?" His words gained clarity with each passing second but the prone form refused to make any sort of movement.

"Buddy? You still alive in there?" His voice became more forceful, more brutal which finally shook Rip-Van Winkle from his eternal slumber.

"Ahhhh!" I screamed as I thrust my eyes open. I flapped my extremities back and forth in extreme terror, only to feel two hands holding me down and doing its very best to calm me down.

"Easy there, kiddo. You had me worried for a minute there." His soothing tone put me at ease and I relented my maniacal motions, allowing my eyes to take stock of the situation. A face stared back at me. It was human at least, which gave me relief beyond words. He looked to be a wizened elderly citizen, long past his prime and perhaps bristling with sagely advice. For an old guy, he sure seemed to know the youngster slang.

"Thanks, Mr…" I muttered incoherently, still recovering from the shock. Luckily, the man understood my ramblings.

"Call me Larry. Everyone does." Larry smiled as he helped me back on my feet.

"Alright, Larry." I mused, grateful for his aid.

"You want to tell me what happened to you? When I found you in the alley, you were right passed out." He queried. Honestly, I didn't know what to tell him. What was I supposed to say anyway? I was transported here by some magical crystal that I wrote about? Yeah, that'll go over soooo well…

"I…." I opened my mouth to speak, only for my eyes to finally grasp the extent of my surroundings.

"What in the…." I exclaimed in both horror and awe at the same time. Peering back before me behind Larry was a sight I'd seen a million times on my TV and on YouTube. The Presidium looked awe-inspiring compared to its portrayal in the game. In the middle of the entire plaza stood a proud, mini-mass relay atop a golden pedestal. Passer-bys looked upon during their walks across the marble-white gantry ways connecting two sides to one another. Its barrier, a pure clean stream of water looked inviting enough to drink from. On the floor above my current position was a mass of stores dealing in various products ranging from care products, food and of course weapons. Everything just looked so futuristic and realistic to the point that I considered that I was just dreaming. One quick pinch on my cheek was enough pain to convince me that this in fact wasn't some really creepy dream.

"What the fuck!? Where the hell am I?" I swore loudly, arousing the suspicions of Larry.

"You hit your head or something, kid? You're on the Citadel." He spoke incredulously, disbelieving the notion that no-one has never heard of the Citadel before. Even the toddlers back on Earth knew about this…

"But that can't be right… I can't…" I stuttered, the words failing to catch in my mouth. It was this I came to a realization. My wish came true. I'm here in the world of Mass Effect. Craning to salvage what little credibility I had left, I instantly made up a thin cover story, just enough to gather intel on my surroundings.

"I'm supposed to be on Earth. I'm not supposed to be here." I wept convincingly, a mixture of both the truth and a lie.

"You must have run afoul of someone powerful if you got dumped in an alley on the Citadel. Looks like they did a crap job too." He surmised, stroking his white hairy chin. His finger was jabbing right at my hands, which were by this point covered in dried blood and scabs. I followed along, giving a short snort at his comment.

"Heh… Yeah, I guess they did."

"Listen, come with me. I got something to show you." He whispered in my ear with a hushed tone. Seeing as how I had no other point of reference or any game plan, it was as good as it was going to get…

"Lead on, old man." I waved my hand forth, eliciting a stifled chuckle from the elderly Samaritan. With that, my feet dragged behind his and I was led to an uncertain future in an uncertain world.

It took all of ten minutes and a god-forsaken extended elevator ride to reach our intended destination. For an old man, Larry sure seemed to walk quite fast. While I could keep up with his pace, I found myself quite weary after we arrived at a nearby store. Larry quickly dragged me aside, away from prying eyes or ears.

"Go into the shop and ask for ol' Larry's equipment. They'll give to ya." He ordered. My suspicions were still firmly in check but I decided to play along in any case. I strolled casually into the store and was greeted by a salarian shopkeeper. Now it must be said that the games do no justice to the actual thing. His weird-like head felt more like the head of aliens from any number of movies. The face matched more reptilian features, reminiscent of frogs back home. The wide eyes looked dead set on peering into my soul. Topping this off was their unnaturally skinny body, legs and arms like fragile wooden branches attached to an equally thin tree on a diet. With a slight trepidation in both physical movement and speech patterns, I approached the counter.

"Uh…hello?" I tentatively spoke.

"Oh, hello there. I didn't see you walk in. What can I do for you?" he spoke in perfect English. I was in shock. I thought I was supposed to have those translator programs and I wasn't exactly packing an omni-tool. So it was to my surprise when I reached out to my right hand and saw the familiar shimmer of orange wrap itself around my wrist and formed a see-through computer with surprising solidity. Where in the world did I get that?

"I…uhh…. I am here to pick up Mr. Larry's procurements." I said, fumbling at first due to the immense shock I felt at first.

"Oh, yes. I've been waiting for you. Now, let's see here…" the salarian spoke softly as he tapped away on his omni-tool and disappeared into the storage room behind the counter. He reemerged triumphantly moments later carrying a medium-sized metal box in his spindly arms. He placed on the shelf to the chorus of a loud thump and breathed a sigh of relief, indicating the weight of said box.

"There you go. I trust everything's in order." He beamed with a warm smile.

"Uh…yes. Thank you very much." I said, picking up the box from the counter.

"You're welcome, sir. Come back any time." He smiled and gave a quick wave. I returned the gesture as I stepped out of the store and back to where Larry was sitting on a bench.

"Ah, good. You got it. Thanks, my boy." Larry chuckled as he watched me saddle on over to him with sweat staining my face and clothes.

"It's the least I could do." I told him matter-of-factly. He chuckled again at that.

"Here you go." I spoke kindly, offering it to Larry. I was befuddled when Larry shook his head and pushed back in my direction.

"No, you take it. Think of it as your reward." He explained.

"I can't take this. This belongs to you." I argued, not wanting to deprive him of what may be his last possessions.

"I don't mind. I don't really need them anymore. Besides, you look like you could use." Larry explained. As his words left his lips, a tone of sadness washed over them, a clear sign of his sadness of letting go.

"I…I don't know what to say." I stuttered, not used to having someone give me something out of kindness. Getting punches to the stomach and being beaten up in the hall certainly did not count as 'presents'…

"Think nothing of it. Well, well. Would you look at the time? I'd best be off. See ya around, kiddo. Good luck getting back home." He stared at his watch as the hands ticked away. With one final wink of his eye, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving me hanging on to the box and confused at what my next step was to be. With a heavy heart, I sat down on the bench and opened the box, slightly eager to see what lay in store for me.

The inside of the box was layered with red leather, the kind of fabric only rich people could afford. My eyes shone against the artificial light flooding the box and illuminating the valuables inside. Sitting on the soft leather was a brand new omni-tool and a chit. The first thing I did was check the chit using the new omni-tool, discarding the old one in the box. As the numbers on the display shot up, my jaw literally dropped to the floor when the counter finally stopped. It was close to 10 million credits. 'Who the hell was that guy?' was the immediate pondering as I glanced back into the crowd, vainly hoping that the old man would come back out to explain this. Damn it! What the hell am I getting myself into? One last glance at the inside of the box revealed just a little more of my mysterious benefactor. Stapled to the back of the box was a small photo depicting the old man standing side-by-side with a young man who bore a startling resemblance with me. The man was clothed in full Aliance gear and shouldering an M-8 Avenger on his back. The picture was signed with the man's cursive handwriting, reading "To my loving son, may this aid you in your battles and bring you home to me." 'His kid must have died recently if he was willing to give this away.' I thought depressingly as I closed the box and wrapped it around my arm. Without any sense of direction, I journeyed back to the main body of the Presidium.

As I finally left the Wards and reentered the Presidium, I finally took a glance at the throng of both humans and alien species alike roaming its halls. Every soul I looked upon wore an assortment of styles old and new. Several elcor passed me by, giving me a neutral stare that chilled me to the bone and wearing clothes that looked tailor-made and had dull colors to match the personas they inevitably give off to other people. Not only were they bigger and scarier than I imagined, they still possessed the speech rate that would shame even a tortoise. And then there was the volus, a species of gas-based life forms forced to wear hazard suits to adapt to the high pressure atmosphere unless they wanted to be an impromptu bomb that showers flesh and blood instead of fragments. Their raspy chatter reminded me of the various gas mask wearing survivors in any number of post-apocalyptic scenarios. '_And if you screw this up, it'll be the same here._' And last but not least were the jellyfish-like hanar who as I remembered from reading all that ancillary text, resided mainly on a water-rich environment. '_Just like a real jellyfish_.' I thought as I prayed that they did not possess the ability to sting. Jellyfish stings can be painful, I can attest to that…

A couple, a human female and an asari passed me by. The female wore a black dress that accentuated every aspect of her body and matching heels to boot. Meanwhile, the asari was clad in green overalls and in a long discussion with her human companion.

Did I mention that the asari looked kinda hot? I'm going to say this again. Those asari were amazing. Their blue skin with varying shades. The way their bodies rivaled the best of our females. The tentacle-like head? Geez, I sound like a Japanese otaku. That's a scary thought.

'_Wait, does that mean…?_' I instantly surmised. Sticking to the shadows whenever possible and staying inconspicuous, I edged closer and closer to the AI aboard the Citadel, the well-meaning but grating Avina. Now, I skipped most of her conversations, deciding like most others that exploring on my own would be a far more rewarding prospect. '_Great, now I have to ask an annoying AI where I am._'

"Welcome to the Citadel. How may I help you?" went her sickening calm tone. '_Can't expect much here. AI here ain't like Halo. Well, except EDI but I have no idea if she's even made yet._'

"Yeah, uh. What year is this?"

"One moment. This is the year 2183." Well crap… This is Mass Effect 1. You know I just noticed a pattern. Every fanfiction I've read that has some meat on its bones tends to start right here. The guy sulking around the Citadel waiting for Shepard to show up and join their squad. In most cases, they usually have some period of time where they did their time in this place and trained for the fight ahead. Also, why are they all female Shepards? I mean, it's not like those guys were going to make a romantic sub-plot. Right? Right?

"Great, this is a whole load of bug-shite! What the hell am I supposed to do now?" I swore, cursing to myself. A turian passed me in mid-rant and gave me a puzzling look with his abnormally weird eyes and flapping mandibles. Jeez, did I want to throw up there. Stepping away, I had little else to think about. What now? Throw myself into her group and hope for the best? Change what I could? As if to answer my questions, I had to glance outside and see an all too familiar ship dock in one of the hangar bays. The word Normandy-SR1 was plastered across the broadside of the damn thing, dotted up in the usual Alliance colors.

What was even more terrifying was seeing its occupants leave the ship. In the center of it all was Shepard herself. 'Great, I'm following in their footsteps. This just keeps getting better and better.' I sarcastically moan subconsciously. Her lascivious blonde hair whipped back and forth in the pressurized airspace. Her face was the epitome of Greek beauty, mirroring that of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, topped off with stunning emerald eyes. Her body was no different, the armor form-fitting around her and bringing attention to her curves and other womanly features. '_Gee, I wonder whose fantasy this girl's trying to represent. Oh, that's right. The guy who can't keep it in his pants. Way to go, idiot._' Came my witty banter. It did raise a nagging question. Was this all a dream? Was I in reality lying comatose on the lawn and dreaming something utterly incredulous? One quick smack to my own cheek was enough to convince me. '_Nope, not dreaming._' If I wasn't a closet introvert by nature, I would totally hit that. Flanking her on her right was Ashley.

Ashley was also gorgeous but this isn't Mass Effect 3 where she decided to keep her hair long. No, this was Mass Effect 1 which meant tied-up hair and less sex appeal than I hoped for. Remembering that I went for her in the first game, I decided to cut her some slack. After all, what's beauty when you have a galaxy to save? Her white and pink armor was on full tacky display and I snorted to myself when I realized how awful it looked on her, preferring to immediately change it to something worse just for the heck of it.

Finally there was Kaiden bringing up Shepard's left. Kaiden fared slightly better than Ashley, keeping his chiseled jaw throughout each and every game. Still didn't save him back then if anyone's asking. For a moderate build, he sure packed some serious muscle. Then again, that's true of anyone who was on Shepard's team. As I watched them walk away, I realized what they were here for. And that when I thought…

Well, this day couldn't get any worse…

**Well, this chapter has a slightly longer run time than the previous effort. The part about the money and omni-tool bit was added so I could easily get the find a job for money subplot out of the way and move on to the actual procurement of the gear later on. Aside from that, I also wanted to give some insight into the various races and avoid doing that in the next one. I hope this chapter lives up to my previous effort… Thank you for the feedback and make sure to keep it coming if you like this… See ya next time…**


	2. Trouble's Little Magnet

**Chapter 2 : Trouble's Little Magnet**

**Here we are. Chapter 2 of this story… Since I'm starting immediately after rewriting the first chapter, I would like to thank anyone in advance for all the reviews, favs, likes, follows and all-around support you have given for this story. It means a lot to me… Thanks guys and gals. Now on with the show…**

As the trio of highly-trained career soldiers passed me by, I had to hold my excitement in. I felt like a schoolgirl dreamily thinking of the hot student transfer. I was like, OH MY GOD! I just… like… met Shepard in real life! This is awesome! That pretty much summed up my initial reaction, followed closely by ones more grounded in reality rather than fantasy. That and the expected showers of lust dribbling down my well…private regions. '_What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm not a soldier. Hell, I haven't even fired a gun before in my life! What use am I on her team?_' While my information was quite useful, it would do little if I babbled about to her. Who knows what events could be altered, thus ruining the one advantage I possess right now, like a soccer player serving into his own team's goal.

Craning my head to pull all my memories of the games as best I could, I realized that Shepard and her team were on their way to see the Council in the Embassies alongside Anderson and Udina. I thought against going there myself. I didn't need to see her get chewed up by the politicians and reprimanded by them. I've seen enough of their groan-worthy faces to last me ten lifetimes. What else then? Then, I remembered something. Turning around to face Avina yet again, I bluntly asked my query.

"Do you know where Dr. Michel's clinic is?"

"One moment... Dr. Michel's clinic is located in the Upper Wards." Her clinical tone offset me a little but my I held my composure due to the C-Sec officers passing by, giving me quizzical looks.

"Thank you." I said, deciding to give the AI the benefit of the doubt. After all, any voice tends to grate when you have to listen to it several times saying the same god-forsaken things. So, with my destination in mind and a butt ton of cash at my disposal, I set off to the elevator en route to the Upper Wards.

Let it be said that the elevators in Mass Effect move so slowly that they would put snails to shame. While I admit that from a technical standpoint it made sense, real life problems don't have the same excuses. What's worse was that I was sandwiched between a krogan (Not Wrex) and an elcor, two of the bigger races in the universe. Imagine having your bones crushed like powder between two huge slabs of meat, one who talks like he doesn't know the meaning of emotion and another who would so much as just slaughter you if you look at them funny. Toss in a foul smell perhaps and you can understand why when the elevator dinged and the doors flung open, I was more than happy to wade out and swear off elevators for good. Composing myself as I walked down the narrow corridor, I finally stopped outside the Med Clinic. Bright, neon lights flared up the namesake with attitude and I felt queasy. '_Makes me feel like I'm entering a stripper-joint, to be honest…_' was my main thought. My nerves steeled, I pushed my way into the Clinic not daring to look back.

As I entered the clinic, the first noteworthy thing I picked up on was the sheer smallness of the clinic itself. Almost exactly according to its depiction in the game, only the magazines on the table weren't just set dressing. Behind a neat, white counter was the good doctor herself. She looked basically the same as depicted in the game. Her demeanor was kind, warm and all-around trustworthy. Her red, blazing hair matched that of the Shepard in Mass Effect 3 only with shoulder length hair instead of long strands. She wore a white and red medical suit along with black gloves, a medical tag plastered on both her arms. The phrase 'Could be better, could be worse' came to mind. A plain lady who doesn't stand out much.

"Ah, welcome to my clinic. How may I help you today?" she spoke in a faint German accent.

"Morning… I'd like to get a full medical check-up." I spoke in a neutral tone.

"Of course. Right this way, please." She motioned to a sizeable room to my right with her hand. I bade to follow and sat down on a comfy bed while Dr. Michel examined her apparatus.

"Hold still, please." She ordered. Remaining ramrod stiff, I watched and felt her prod me in all manner of places. From my eyes, to my skin and even my extremities were not safe from her observant eyes. Think of it as an alien probing, though not as invasive or disgusting. She gave a short 'Hmmm…' several times as she looked me over twice. Satisfied, her hands dexterously flicked the pen grasped in her palms across a check board. She would occasionally put the pen to her mouth as if I was some kind of medical mystery. Eventually, she turned back around to face me with a puzzled look on her face.

"Well, Mr…" '_Oh, crap! Name? Uh… Um… Uhhhh…. Oh, got it!_' went my mind as I scrambled to put together my identity.

"Isaac. Most people call me that." I lied, gritting my teeth as I said so. I felt it unwise to divulge my real name. Might as well get into the groove since I'll be doing that for a while.

"Well, Isaac. It appears you are in peak physical condition. Your results are quite promising from what I can tell. However, I would like to know why you are wearing that apparatus on her eyes." She queried, flipping her notes to double-check them.

"Oh, this?" I replied, taking my silver-plated glasses off my eyeballs and handing them over to Dr. Michel. "These are my glasses. I'm near-sighted. Have been since I read a dictionary when I was three." I said, spinning my tale like a spider spins its web.

"Did you not receive treatment for this as soon as possible?" She mused curiously, her eyes affixed to this strange apparatus she had never seen before.

"My family's always been quite poor. So, I did not have the money to perform the procedure. I did come into a large inheritance just recently." I explained in an attempt to sate her curiosity before it blew out of proportions and start asking some really tough questions.

"I see…." She pondered my answer. To my relief, her face also broke into one of satisfaction. She laid down my glasses on a tray and gave a curt prognosis. "Well, it should not take long to correct. These procedures are quite common nowadays. I'm just surprised it took you this long." She replied, shaking her head. '_She must be buying my sob story. After all, this is the lady who got fired for doling out free medical supplies._' I surmised quietly.

"Yeah, I guess. Uh… listen? Could I keep my glasses? I kinda have some sentimental value with them and I'd like to keep them as a reminder." I asked. Those glasses have been with me since the start of high school. Damn if I was going to throw them away now…

"Of course. I'll get a box for you to put them in." she smiled as she answered.

"Thank you, doctor." I nodded my head in gratitude.

"Now, please lie still. This will take a moment." Dr. Michel ordered me. I sat down on my bed and let the anesthesia run its course. As I lay there watching my eyelids flutter open and close, I thought back to my decision to come here. If I was right, Dr. Michel would have a spot of trouble with Fist's lackeys anytime today. Garrus Vakarian, everyone's favorite turian would sneak in and join the party. Afterwards, Shepard and her team would come charging in and allow Garrus to make the first move. It sounded fine in theory, except for the whole '_you could get killed part._' I cast it aside for the moment. After all, if those guys could last through the whole game, why couldn't I?

I found myself waking up an hour or two later. I knew because the first thing that came into focus was the wall-mounted clock resting above my bed on the wall. To my surprise, Dr. Michel was nowhere to be found. Reaching for my glasses, I found that my eyesight was impeccable. No blurry images at long range. Just clear, delirious clarity. I was shocked to put it mildly. It felt great not to wear those glasses again and yet it also made me sad that I'd have to give it up so quickly, like a child gives away his toys when he grows up. Suddenly, I heard a womanly yelp emnate from the main body of the clinic. With slight trepidation, I shifted off the table without making a peep. Edging even closer to the door, I did not even need to nudge the door open to see that she was in trouble.

"I didn't tell anyone! I swear!" she cried, her voice echoing through the thin barriers that passed for walls.

"That was smart, Doc. Now if Garrus comes around, you better stay smart." I could hear the gruff thug threaten the good doctor. '_Crap, now? Could have picked a better time, kiddo…_' cursing myself for not being too observant. Without hesitation, I shifted around the room, looking for anything I could use. Eventually I settled on the medical tray, its cold steel a warm relief in my trembling hands. I had no time left to make my grand entrance so I flung the door open to an amazed crowd consisting of Garrus, the thugs, Dr. Michel, Shepard and her team.

"Hey assholes! Catch!" I yelled. I think everyone was pretty much shell-shocked with my appearance. It was only later when I realized why. Dr. Michel had apparently thought it best to disrobe me and put me in a medical gown while I was out in la-la land. Now imagine being any one of those participants in the room. Imagine going about your business normally when all of a sudden, some random guy jumps out of nowhere wearing naught all except a thin cloth and having the cool breeze pass up into his exposed butt crack. Add to that the maniac is wielding a fucking tray against your armed ass and you can pretty much feel my embarrassment at that moment.

Whatever… I flung my tray with as much momentum as I could muster. To my inherent surprise and to the shock of the thugs holding Dr. Michel hostage, my tray pinged off one of the goons' forehead, planting him face-first on the ground unconscious. The thugs recovered soon enough from their initial shock and began firing in my general direction. I pressed up against the frame of the doorway, feeling behind the bullets embedding themselves into the wall with a sickening thud. Garrus meanwhile took advantage of my distraction and landed a clean headshot on the lead thug, his body flopping backwards and slumping against the once pristine wall, his blood coating the white surface with red. Shepard and her crew mopped up soon enough and the rest of the thugs fell easily to their combined fire.

It was over in seconds. Still shaking and quaking in fear, I finally found the courage to peek out. The carnage horrified me, to the extent of nearly causing a full on puke-a-thon right there and then. Staggering to keep upright, I was pleasantly surprised to find Shepard straddling up to me and looking me in the eye.

"You okay?" she asked in a calm tone, seeing my frightened demeanor.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you, Ms…" I paused with good reason. '_I wonder what name she got stuck with. Hopefully not the default name… Cause that would really suck…_'

"Alison. Alison Shepard." She answered. Ah, so it wasn't such a bad name. Alright, I guess I could remember that.

"You did a brave thing today. You saved a woman's life." Alison insinuated. Honestly, I felt like a fool. What was I thinking, using a tray against four armed douchebags?

"Ah, it wasn't my doing. You people seemed to have handled yourselves quite well. Oomph…" I groaned as my bowels reacted unfavorably to the stench of gunpowder and coagulated blood filling my lungs.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked with a degree of concern in her tone.

"I'm fine. Just not used to seeing dead bodies." I gagged out over my futile attempts to block out the smell. Hopefully they clean out this place soon enough before the bodies began to decompose. I certainly would not be able to handle that.

"Hey, nice going there. Pretty good toss if you ask me." Garrus replied from across the room. Garrus sure did retain some characteristics. His C-Sec armor was still ever present, the blue tinge reminding me of the Normandy SR-2's overall in the third game. He even had his weird monocle optic like he was some sort of suave British spy. Let us bow our heads in memorium of GOOD James Bond films… Let's hope he doesn't carry over the pole up his behind…

"I'm sure you soldier types do it all the time in basic training." I said, brushing off my achievements as little more than everyday tasks for these purveyors of war and death.

"Still, pretty impressive." Garrus surmised his thought processes.

"Wait a minute, you're bleeding." Shepard brought my attention roaring back. My eyes fell towards my shoulder and to my horror, a round had managed to nick me, exposing my shoulder blade. Thick, red blood oozed from the wound yet the pain was not in attendance.

"Wha…." I mumbled in shock as I nursed my painless wound.

"Dr. Michel, could you take care of your patient? I need to talk to Garrus for a minute." Shepard called over to the doctor nearby. From the look on her face, it seemed she had more important places to be than to take care of some idiot. To my credit, she disapproved my theory that she would leave quickly for at least all of two minutes.

"Of course, Commander. Come over here if you please." She bowed in gratitude. Grunting in pain, I staggered over to the designated spot where Dr. Michel set to work on patching up my wounds. Applying the medi-gel was easy. Within seconds, the wound was sealed with a biological gel of pure white and relief finally struck my rattled nerves.

"Ah… It stings a little." I groaned, holding my arm as she derisively examined the wound with her omni-tool.

"Thank you, Isaac." She said with a smile out of left-field, catching me off guard. I guess I should have expected it but still…

"What for, doc?" I asked politely.

"If you hadn't stepped in, I'd have been killed." She explained plainly.

"It was nothing, doc. It's not a big deal. Besides, those people were more than enough for your rescue." I reaffirmed. Tossing a tray and taking out one guy out of four did not qualify as a proper rescue.

"Perhaps… But still, I appreciate the aid." Her thick German accent was on full display. It seemed she had grown fond of me. When I was about to leave the clinic, I remembered at the last moment that I had a bill to settle. She turned me down, saying that she could not bear to take payment from me since I had aided in her rescue. So, accepting her gracious hospitality, I set off at once to the elevator without any pre-set destination in mind. '_Let's just hope she doesn't give me turian chocolate…_' I sardonically quipped with a smile etched across my delirious face.

Where to go now? I could always go to Chora's Den and try and help Shepard storm Fist's stronghold. Or I could go and help Tali when she gets ambushed by Saren's lackeys. Both promised a boatload of combat thought I'd have comparatively less to deal with should I go the Tali route. It reminded me of the same decisions the Mass Effect series is known for, except both of those options had suicide written all over it. Also unlike games, there's no autosave or reloading the last checkpoint in the real world. One lucky hit and I'll be sent to that big ball of pixels in the sky. Upon further deliberation, I opted to go and help Tali. Not only would she be able to help soften the blow, the risk of getting my head blown clean off was considerably less compared to Fist's security force and an automated turret in his office. With that in mind, I headed off in the general direction of Chora's Den with a slight tremble in my step.

Making my way over there, I squinted from across the hallway. I could clearly make out the entrance to Chora's Den with little effort. Once again, I was a little too late to join the party. Shepard, along with Garrus and Wrex, who will probably riddle Fist's brainpan with bullets making their way into the club, their weapons all at the ready. They moved with lightning efficiency, using tactics in common with most police forces and military units. I wasn't going to stick around. If she's busy laying the hurt, then Tali is most likely getting accosted by Saren's goons at this very moment. I channeled as much stamina as I could into my legs and sprinted to the alleyway, hoping to God that I wasn't too late…

When I got there, Tali was already in a heated argument with the turian while the two salarians stood at each end of the alleyway, ever alert for any looming presence nosing in their business. Taking shelter behind a pillar, I observed their conversation in earnest.

"Did you bring it?" spoke commandingly the turian with the tribal paint across his mandibles and eyes.

"Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?" Tali asked quizzically. '_If you want to meet Fist, you'll need a body bag, lady._' I pondered, wondering to myself how fucked up Wrex's number on Fist was.

"They'll be here. Where's the evidence?" The turian tried to maintain control of the situation. It was obvious however that it was far from his control. He even tried to caress her cheek, something which screamed ambush.

"No way. The deal's off." She starkly prompted, walking away from the turian. Motioning to his two fellow comrades-in-arms, the lead salarian broke out an unwieldy pistol from his holster, ready to use it if necessary. Before Tali could make her move, I made mine. Pulling out of cover, I made for the two salarians with as much speed as I could muster.

"Hey, pick on someone your own size, pal!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, prompting both victim and victimizers to spin around and watch me, no doubt considering me to be a madman charge pell-mell at them with no weapons at all. That window of opportunity gave me the chance to tackle both salarians to the ground with my outstretched arms, their bones making a crack sound as I rugby-tackled their collective behinds. From a distance, I could see Shepard and her crew bringing up the front, racing to get to us in a hurry.

I had no time to wait though. The turian overcame his lucidity and snarled, aiming his weapon directly at my face. Straining to keep my cool, I quickly let loose a roundhouse kick at his extended arm, knocking the sidearm far away from home. Say what you want about my parents, they probably had the right idea when they told me I had to go and take taekwondo classes. To be honest, I was at least not completely defenseless. The turian raised his fists, ready to tackle the problem old-school. I reciprocated this gesture, raising my fists in response. He made the first move, his fist barreling forth and trying to get a bead on my midsection. I took a step back and sent my own backthrust at him, relying on my long legs to keep me out of reach of his attacks and allowing me to take potshots at him. What can I say? It's good to be tall… The turian dodged it nimbly and closed the distance, grabbing my arm and readying himself for a hostage situation. I was having none of that. I elbowed him with my free hand right in the jaw, causing the idiot to step backwards, reeling in pain. I did not relent, opting to throw a flurry of punches at his stomach, like a punching bag at the gym. One last uppercut and he was flat on his back, groaning and no doubt feeling particularly ashamed of being defeated by a mere human. Shepard and her team finally arrived on the scene, their faces awash with absolute astonishment. Tali? I had no clue what she was, but I could tell it was nothing bad.

"And stay down!" I screamed at the turian, who rolled in pain on the floor. Shepard stepped up to me, her face visibly annoyed.

"That's the second time I've seen you around." Her brow was visibly raised, her suspicions rising. I had to throw her off fast.

"You're telling me. I was just trying to have a lovely stroll when I saw this bunch here trying to harm someone." I gave as best a convincing as I could weave.

"And you helped out of the good of your heart?" she spoke as she placed her hand against her hip.

"Hey, I can't help that I'm always in these kind of scenarios." I argued to a still suspicious Shepard. She was one hard hat to sell, that's for damn sure.

"Trouble's little magnet, eh?" she joked.

"You could say that." I shrugged my shoulders, regretting it almost immediately when burning pain resurfaced in my old wound. Why couldn't it have stayed painless?

"The human fights well. Almost as good as the turian." Wrex gave his standing praise. I saw Garrus moan verbally beside him to an amused audience.

"I'm right here, Wrex." Garrus sarcastically responded to his challenge. Wrex had to stifle a chuckle as so not to break his bloodthirsty persona.

"You could say that. You don't get to be alive if you don't learn how to fend for yourself in the neighborhood I grew up in." I spat out, with little irony. Besides, bullies in the yard are the same as thugs on the street, right?

"Still sounds a little fishy." Shepard mused as her eyes perused my full appearance, looking hard for the cracks in my fake persona.

"Shepard. We came for the quarian. Not the human." Wrex spoke plainly, the main agenda still fresh in his mind. '_Thank you, Wrex for that well-timed detour._'

"Thanks for the reminder, Wrex." Shepard reprimanded him. I was far from out of the ballpark.

"Who are you people?" Tali finally found the nerve to speak up. Though not by all means a coward, she was a little frightened by the sudden appearance of more armed thugs.

"I'm Commander Shepard. We got word that you have evidence against Saren." She calmly reassured her with her emerald-green eyes.

"Alliance. Alright, I guess I owe you one. But not here out in the open." She surmised, her brain running through the best option of handling said problem. Eventually, I assumed she just went along with the flow. What's the worst that could happen?

"We'll take you to the Embassies. It's safe there." She quickly answered. Tali seemed relieved at her answer and gave a curt nod to her.

"Thank you, Shepard. And thank you…" she trailed off as she turned to face me. Her hand was stretched out, a clear sign of her gratitude.

"Just call me Isaac." I mumbled, returning the gesture. If I was accurate enough, any of those guys could kick my ass any day of the week. Just got lucky, I guess…

"Isaac?" Shepard started as I turned to walk away. Here comes the million dollar question.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Wanna tag along? I could use someone like you on my team."

"Sure, why not? It's not like the Citadel is any safer. But I don't have any gear." I accepted her offer, seeing no other path besides following in the game's logic.

"We can settle that after we meet with Udina and Anderson." Shepard stated plainly.

"Who again?" I queried, putting on my best confused face. Which also happens to be my poker face. I really need to make my tells less obvious…

"Oh, right. Our ambassador and captain of the Normandy respectively." Shepard placed a palm to her head as she said this, remembering that I'd never heard of them before. At least to her knowledge…

"Right…. Lead the way then, Shepard." So it was that I found myself in Shepard's motley crew. For the moment, I was pretty stoked of having an active part in a world I'd grown to adore over the years. It was like a dream come true for most fanboys. Who wouldn't want to be kicking ass and saving the galaxy alongside a really hot ass-kicking woman?

What an idiot I was back then…

**So here's the next chapter. Happy New Year by the way. I hope this part of my new story lives up to your expectations. If not, please leave a message and tell me what you think could be better. I accept all criticisms except ones where someone asks me to die. To them, I say you first… Enjoy your holidays cause I certainly am…**


	3. Prepping The Descent Into Chaos

**Chapter 3 : Prepping The Descent Into Chaos**

**Yay… Chapter 3. I hope this chapter covers enough ground before we move on to the missions and all that stuff. Consider it a light-hearted snack of building the relationships between the characters and explaining some gear items. Also, I would like it very much if you guys could help support my other fanfic Timekeeper : Resolution as much as you support this one. It does make me sad when my main stuff is overdone by the secondary stuff. With any luck and of course your reviews, likes and favorites perhaps that'll change. Enough babbling, let's get to reading….**

When I played the game back in my hey-days, I was so frustrated with the unwillingness of the Council and the politicians to step in and do the right thing, even if it meant taking a hit to their credibility. Hell, it was one of the main driving factors behind my mistrust and indeed my family's general misgivings about any politician in power. We always believed in changing our government every now and then before they had a chance to really ruin shit and forego their campaign promises. As the saying goes, "Power corrupts." But this? This part where I watched Shepard tear Udina a new one, not counting the chest cavity he has coming his way? Just another reason why the Mass Effect way of dealing with snobby authority figures was so much better. Why can't we just yell at Mitt Romney or Barack Obama to just stop horsing around and get to doing something productive for once? But I digress… Mostly I get the reasons why they're so inclined to trust without any proper evidence. Keep in mind, even just one slip-up like a scandal or a badly-worded law or maybe even a move that could spell disaster either way would irrevocably damage their career beyond repair. Playing it safe was the best choice to go with.

Whatever, I will not bore you with the details of Udina's ranting nor will I discuss Shepard's inauguration into the Spectres by the Citadel Council. Let it be known that she did a visible fist-pump into the air as soon as the bigwigs were out of sight. I'd never seen her this happy before. Then again, I haven't seen her for more than twenty minutes, most of which was spent looking from afar. What the hell did I know?

"Yes, we got the Council's go-ahead!" she exclaimed proudly to her awaiting team of badass soldiers. '_Well, five experienced troopers and one lame guy who still thinks cat videos are funny._' I mused with a niggling feeling in my head. Unfortunately, I was present to hear the rest of her conversation with Udina and Anderson, which did little to get rid of that niggling feeling.

"Congratulations, Commander." Anderson beamed proudly as he shook her hand with enthusiastic applaud.

"We've got a lot of work to do, Shepard. You're going to need a ship, a crew, supplies…" Udina listed off the top of his head, all the while doing his trademark thinking man routine as he said this. 'You'll need a hospital soon enough, idiot.' I muttered under bated breath, not loud enough to be heard by anyone but still making enough of a distraction to give Garrus and Tali some slight misgivings. I quickly hid my sarcasm streak and cleared my throat, averting their attention back to Shepard's conversation.

"You and your crew will get access to special equipment and training now. The Spectre Requisitions Officer in the C-Sec Academy should help you get started, Commander." Anderson affirmed, pointing in the general direction of the Academy to us, primarily me by the way his eyes glazed over me.

"Anderson, come with me. I'll need your help to set it up." Udina evoked, leading Anderson away from the podium and leaving us alone to our thoughts.

"Well, that was…rude, sir." Ashley retorted as she watched the figure of Udina slink away into the crowd of diplomats.

"Until I find Saren, I haven't done anything yet." Shepard assumed, shrugging her shoulders. Her platinum-blonde hair whipped back and forth for no apparent reason, other than to make my trousers slightly uncomfortable. '_Damn my adolescent fantasies!_' I cursed mentally.

"Still, he could have at best given you some sort of congratulatory gesture." Kaiden tossed in his own opinion.

"I don't worry about that kind of thing, Kaiden. You know that." Shepard reminded him. No doubt his brain was filling up with memories of their time spent serving together. Out of all the people in Shepard's squad, only he had prior history with her before the start of the series.

"Just saying, boss…" Kaiden shrugged, resigned to Shepard's infinite if not always correct wisdom.

"All right. Let's move. We need to go get some supplies for our new recruit right here." Shepard's emerald eyes trailed off to meet mine. All their eyes trained on me in that moment.

"Gee, thanks for making me special…" I sarcastically moaned, bringing a low chuckle from the commander.

"You're welcome." She smirked.

So it was that I found myself being careened around the Citadel on my first proper tour of the place. Each and every one of them had a story to tell about each and every landmark, treating me like the new autistic kid who thinks unicorns still exist. '_I'm not a bloody kid, dimwits._' I pondered as yet another story filtered through my ears. Eventually we reached our destination, the C-Sec Academy. Let it be said that it felt weird being in a police station of any kind. I don't know about you but I feel uncomfortable being in a police station unless A.) I did something wrong and B.) being the victim of some crimes. It freaked me out and made my skin curl slightly at the thought of being handcuffed. Mom and Dad were always hard on us when it came to following the rules. I still remember that one time when Erin tried unsuccessfully to frame me and Matthew for taking her things and rearranging them in a different order. You'd think this story ends with her getting her comeuppance. You'd be wrong. Instead, Mom ended up on the couch because she was the true culprit and Dad had said that they themselves were not above the law. The boys reigned supreme that day and Mother took it in stride, apologizing profusely for her mistake. That's how we do that in our family. Own up to our mistakes. And if my presence here or the multitude of fanfics were anything to go by, I was about to make a lot of mistakes. Let's just hope I can live with the consequences…

"Welcome, Commander Shepard. I was told in advance that you'd be making a quick stop here." The turian behind the desk gave a warm smile to Shepard as she sauntered over to him. Her team and I followed suit, keeping a respectable distance to allow some form of privacy.

"Much appreciated. I need new gear for my team before we head out." She gave a knowing smirk, glancing back at my unprepared behind. I felt slightly embarrassed at the mere thought of being singled out again, a flush of pink flooding my cheeks.

"Of course. If you'd wait a moment while I check your credentials. Can't be too careful now, can we? Especially in your line of work?" '_That was an understatement, pal…_' I mused, rolling my eyes in their sockets.

"Take your time." Shepard replied, turning to face me. That's it. I had no patience left. I had to know why. It was bugging the whole way here and I'd be damned if I didn't get any answers right there and then.

"Shepard, may I ask you something?" I asked in my most quizzing tone to date.

"Technically, you need my permission to speak first." She jested with a smirk.

"Technically, I'm not a soldier of the Alliance." I retorted sarcastically.

"Then what are you exactly?" She played along, wondering where this was going.

"That's what I'm getting at. I can understand the rest of your choices here. Garrus here is a cop with ties to the turian military no less so he's probably got some battle experience safely under his belt." I blasted out of my mouth, my finger firmly pointed at the monocle-optic wearing sharpshooter next to me. I had to choose my words carefully, lest I fumble the advantage to their side of the net. So I kept my comments firmly grounded on the general info most people would be familiar with.

"That you think so highly of me is rather unusual for me." Garrus gave me a raised eyebrow at my unexpected praise of his skills. No doubt he expected a xenophobic human since his race and ours were basically still reeling from the aftermath of the First Contact War. If nothing else, my praise caught him off guard. Ignoring his musings, I moved on to everyone's favorite quarian.

"Tali's a Quarian and we all know that means technical expertise and a whole load of engineering knowledge up there." I proclaimed with certainty.

"Just because we follow a stereotype doesn't mean you have to call us out like that." She replied irritably, not content with following the assumptions of most of her ilk too rigidly.

"Wrex is some unstoppable war machine with the firepower and endurance to boot." I pointed out to everyone. Everyone's faces nodded in agreement. Wrex looked like a biological vehicle rather than an actual living being. I wasn't about to tell him that to his face. I'm kinda fond of my extremities being attached to the rest of my body…

"Heh… you humans have a nickname for us krogan. It's called a tank." He gave a scary, tooth-ridden grin that nearly caught me unaware for several moments. Eventually I composed myself and went on with my rant. As I began chanting my next words of wisdom, I was mildly astonished to find Shepard listening in on my every word, her lips pursed as she searched for a plausible answer to give.

"Ashley and Kaiden here are decorated marines in the Alliance military." I prodded at the stripes on their armor.

"If only you knew…" she mumbled under her breath. Oh, I knew. I just didn't think it pertinent to reveal that I did.

"I don't think that…" Kaiden began but trailed off, content to allow me my 15 minutes of fame.

"So why the hell am I here? I'm a nobody, an average citizen. What could I possibly bring to the table?" I spoke in a raised voice, my message clearly spelled out for the commander.

"Do you really need anything to be on my team?" Shepard queried, her eyes alight with annoyance. '_I'd be annoyed too if some sod starts questioning my every directive._' I visibly cringed at the thought.

"Shepard… I can't even fire a damn gun, let alone understand the full complexities of an omni-tool. I highly doubt it's my prowess at martial arts because three quarters of the people here could whoop my ass on any day of the week." I explained my doubts.

"Except Sunday. That's our off day." Garrus chose to make a bad joke at the time. I gave him a cold, hard stare, basically asking him to close his alien flaps. He got the message and remained silent.

"Look, Isaac. I didn't bring you on my team because of your skills." She retorted, rubbing her temples as she did so.

"What then, Shepard?" I asked, my question still hanging in the air. Shepard sighed for a moment before choosing the right words to placate me.

"I brought you on because you have a good heart. You did help save Tali and Dr. Michel even when you could've walked away." Whatever plan she had, it backfired in the worst possible way. Because I like helping people? That's pretty much every Tom, Dick and Harry on her side.

"That's your explanation? My willingness to help damsels-in-distress?" I shot back, not impressed one bit with her reply.

"It's my reasoning. What more could you ask for?" Shepard returned fire. I was about to take this argument further when the turian requisitions officer cleared his throat and gave a brief cough, bringing everyone's attention back to him.

"If you're quite done, I'm finished with my background checks." "Now what would you like to purchase?" He gave his warm and utterly fake plastic smile. I glared back at Shepard, giving her a cold, dead stare, signaling to her that this discussion was far from over. Turning back to face the turian, I perked up my award-winning grin and gave a curt nod to him.

What to choose? What to choose? It felt like I was back home, looking for clothes with Mom and Erin. Let me tell you, those two take waaaay too long just to find something that agrees with them and even longer to settle on something. Matthew's feet were practically like jelly after Christmas rush hour. On the one hand, I've played a lot of shooters in my half-decade or so relationship with video games. Enough so that I knew what to look out for and how to differentiate one gun from another. On the downside, real life weapons are not exactly the same as virtual weapons. Looking down the checklist, I laid out the pros and cons of each every category of firearm available in my own mental landscape.

First up were the pistols. These babies ranged from the Dirty Harry styles heavy pistols that could rip holes in any respectable armor to the more conventional semi-autos that were handy in a pinch. Then there were the more experimental ones like the Scorpion, a pistol that functioned more as a portable grenade launcher, its rounds sticking to and then detonating on any unlucky SOBs. While it was lightweight and probably the easiest to get a firm handle on, I opted against it since I didn't exactly prefer pistols unless I go akimbo-style which is not exactly advisable against the foes we'd be going up against. Incidentally, I made a mental note not to use the words 'firm handle' to describe anything ever again. It made my skin crawl when I remembered another inappropriate term for its designation. Uhhh….. Need to go get a shower later…

SMGs or submachine guns fared better. It felt nice to carry those lightweight beauties around. It was smooth and easy to carry around, something my physically-deprived body would greatly appreciate. What's more, it had a high magazine capacity, giving me a better chance at hitting something with my piss-poor aiming skills. While I've always played as an assault rifle-wielding badass in most of my playthroughs, I thought it best to craft my own persona. Get into character since I'll have to do this for a while.

And then I came to the sniper rifles. Oh, man. I felt like my heart wanted to skip a beat there and then. Just the long barrel and smooth edges of the thing was just awesome in its own right. No, no… Why did I go there again? Scrub my brain, scrub my brain. The scope felt elegant and crisp and best of all, I would be far away from the main action and that is how you lower your chances of catching it. The semi-auto function was considered a neat little bonus, the icing on the proverbial cake. So eventually, I settled on two beauties. One was a custom-build SMG that I asked for. It had night sights strapped to its original iron sights, giving me the same clean accuracy during any night missions. Aside from that, I settled for an elongated barrel to give it more of a bite at medium range. A pistol grip did wonders for my shaky palms and it was all topped off with a fresh coat of fluorescent white, a nice clean look that I found intriguing. For the sniper rifle, it too was a custom build put together by the officer. I requested a better scope with 12x zoom rather than the subpar 9x it came with. An extended magazine came along for the ride, bringing with it a sleek, sexy looking black-matte silencer on its shoulder. To cap it all off, the rifle was painted a light quiver of yellow to boot. Shepard came over to check my purchases at that moment and from the look on her face, she must have been pretty glad she wasn't the one footing the bill on my expensive looking guns. After all, I did just get a fortune. What else was I going to spend it on? Hookers? Don't answer that….

Next came the suit of armor. In most logical conclusions, any sane person with a fear of death instilled in them and a high mortality rate would go one of two ways. They could go light armor with plates so thin that they felt like paper rather than actual metal. It would be pretty much a crap-shoot whether or not he survived, depending on the person's ability to dodge bullets. Just because heroes do it all the time in movies does not mean you can do that too. So, that was out… The other option would be heavy armor, the theory is that the protection it offered meant lesser chance of being fatally wounded. One problem though, you'd move like a lame-ass turtle and all the enemy would need to do to kick your aluminum and platinum plated ass is to keep throwing rounds down your way. I wasn't exactly looking to resemble the cenobite from any number of horror films. Jeez, can you imagine anyone wanting to look like Freddy Krueger?

The happy medium seemed to be the best option. The nest of both worlds if you so choose to see. By the way, that song sucked… Seriously, even Erin wanted to toss our radio down a flight of stairs sod the consequences. To be honest, I don't think our parents would hold it against us. Off topic… sorry… Anyway, I would have some degree of protection covering my fragile body and allow some degree of movement instead of standing still like a slab of wall. A generous helping of dark black and pure white brought out the differences in one another, which looked… artistic to put it in context. As for my helmet, I chose to use a standard issue Alliance helmet with some minor tweaks and a fat wad of credits. The same colors were applied plus an emblem of the amalgamation of both a sword in light silver and a shield of dark brown put together. When Shepard first looked at it, she had the following to say,

"Wow, going medieval are we?" she gave a smirk as she examined the emblem with her lithe fingers. I frowned slightly at her comment. I may not have been fashion sensible back home but I still knew to wear pants on my legs, not my head.

"I think it looks nice. Anyone?" I asked, turning around to find any takers. Only Wrex took the bait and he was no less critical about it than Shepard was.

"Looks noteworthy. Still not as nice as mine." There's that bluntness again.

"I'm not going to argue." I said meekly.

"Out of fear or agreement?" Shepard asked, looking at Wrex for a moment.

"Call it both." I muttered. Both commander and alien burst out laughing and gave me a light tap on my shoulder for my dry wit. More of a hard slap when it came to Wrex… That guy does not know his own strength. With that, I paid my dues and soon followed Shepard and company back to the Normandy for the first time. First thought would be '_Oh, boy. I get to see the Normandy for the first time._' with a degree of excitement I could not match. Second thought would be '_Oh, no. I get to see the Normandy for the first time._' maybe less enthused about the idea and more sulking involved. You see, I had no doubt that I would come to love the ship and its inhabitants in no time flat. That's why it was displeasing to think of what it would be in just a year or so. Another pile of space rubble, left only in the memories of those who live on. While I do intend to make some changes, something tells me that particular excursion was meant to play out only one way. Time will tell perhaps… For now, I was content to bask in the airlock, squeezed between a turian with a stick up his rear and a krogan with a bad temper.

God, I hated cramped spaces…

Stepping into the Normandy, my geek vibes pretty much got set on fire. I had to try really hard to curb my excitement to a point that would not arouse much suspicion. Still, it did not stop Shepard and in extension the rest of team giving a puzzling look, as if I'd never seen a space ship before. How close they were to the truth. The sleekness of the Normandy's exterior seemed to have been adopted by the interior. The cockpit (Yes, I understand the really lame joke here. Too many sexual references as it is… Stop pointing it out.) was immaculately designed. Two rows of flight navigation computers lined the pathway to the main pilot seat, where Joker sits for the rest of the game. All of them had this weird orange hue to it, similar to that of the omni-tool. Looking around, segmented metal tiles lined the walls behind the computers, highlighting the main colors of the Alliance Navy. The mixture of blue and white repeated itself throughout the ship. It was in the armory, it was in the war room. Heck, it was even in the bathrooms. It was more white than anything but still…

The main body, the center of it all, the galaxy map blew me away. Just the crisp detail, the dense clusters of stars mapped out and the real-time updates that gave it a vibrant sci-fi look was everything geeks and in extensions scientists have only dreamed about at night. And here I was, getting a first look at it with my own two eyes! I kinda know what it must be like for Tali the first time on the Normandy. As I took in my view with great awe, Shepard chose this moment to make her rousing speech to her new crew. Tears welled up in those emerald jewels, no doubt sad that Anderson had to step down so forcibly at least in mind. Nevertheless, she took her role in stride. Her voice was booming and authoritative, calling every ounce of our attention to her. She was a natural born leader, no questions asked. I felt proud to be doing my part, unlike taxes and the failings of the system that passes as education to not help curb bullying. Let's just hope these words still have any meaning four or five years from now…

From there, I was shown around the armory. Let it be said that I'm a strong advocate against violence in real life. It runs in the family. Even Dad had a strong urge to faint when he saw my wounded knee after an embarrassing showing at a soccer match. At least I had a stronger tolerance to it. Seeing those guns however was like being a kid in a candy store and the shopkeeper just started a free-for-all sale. You can imagine how I looked like a gun-nut, letting my fingertips brush over the sleek metal with tenderness not seen since I held my niece in my arms. Pulling myself away eventually, I resolved not to be so flippant about guns in the future. Like it or not, these things were not exactly children's toys…

I was taken to my quarters by Kaiden after Shepard was called away on some important mission briefs from the Council in the conference room. To my surprise, I was given a spacious room all to myself on the floor below the main deck. A neat single bed laid flat on the cold metal. Fluorescent lights glowed the room in its warm embrace. A locker filled to the brim with casual clothes and my gear set was tucked away in a corner. A handy little terminal to the side. A desk for various purposes with a chair to boot. Everything about this room screamed officer quarters. I just had to ask what I did to deserve such treatment.

"Hey, Kaiden. I think you got the wrong room." I queried in bewilderment. Kaiden did naught but give the good ol' shrug of the shoulders.

"Believe me, I've double-checked the manifest. This is it." Kaiden looked over the datapad in his hands, lazily waving a hand as he said this. His eyes remained affixed to it, no doubt also puzzled by Shepard's choice in the matter.

"Well, that can't be right. This room is way too nice for someone like me. Maybe you or Ashley perhaps but not me." I said.

"Hey, if you want we can swap places." Kaiden jested. I just gave him a serious face, signaling my unwillingness to joke about it.

"I just don't want to feel special or coddled." I complained. Kaiden sighed for a moment before placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"If it bothers you a lot, I could talk to Shepard about it." Kaiden replied. I returned his gesture with a warm smile and a pat on his shoulder.

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Kaiden." I profusely replied.

"Anytime. Contrary to popular belief, we look out for own. Even if you don't look like much…" Kaiden trailed off, seeing my annoyed yet amused smirk on my face.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I sardonically quipped as he stepped out of my room.

"You're welcome." He shouted back as the doors slid back close mere seconds later. So this is where I was to be for now. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining or anything. I just haven't done anything to deserve such commendations. As I looked out my window into the deep, dark vastness of space, I noticed a small note plainly lain out on my desk. My curiosity peaked, I sat down at the desk and began reading.

_Dear Isaac,_

_ From what I gathered from my colleagues in the military, you seemed to have ignored my advice about staying out of trouble. In fact, you decided to join that kid Shepard on her crazy mission for some apparent reason. I have no idea what possessed you to make such a decision, kid. But believe you me, I'm not about to let another kid die for glory and honor. I've seen enough youngsters die in my lifetime trying to aspire to some kind of recognition, including my grandson and I'll be damned if I did not do anything to help._

_ So I contacted some of my friends and asked them to give you the best chance of survival I could possibly provide for you. Money was not an issue for me and it never will be. Consider this my final gift to you, that you may one day settle down and push past this madness. I will wish you the best, kid. And if you die, well then I'll see you up there one day._

_Yours truly,_

_An old soul._

I was beyond touched by his kindness that I welled up in tears at his heartfelt story. It was no different back home. Parents waling as their sons and daughters served their country, hoping to do it proud. The letters that came back, informing them of their continued survival or bringing a family to ruin with the same computerized apology they always gave out. That's why our family stayed as far away as possible from any military influences and stayed out of trouble. I didn't want to disappoint the old man. He had done so much for me already and I was just a stranger on his way. Maybe the fond memories of his grandson helped but it still felt wrong, taking and giving nothing back.

As I watched our ship sail off into the midnight sky and approach the mass relay, I just sat at the desk, reading and rereading the same letter for the umpteenth time. I had no choice in the matter. Maybe I could change things for the better. Maybe finally I could do something worthwhile…

Something worth honoring this good Samaritan with…

**Well ,that's all she wrote. Now, the next chapter may also be a filler chapter since I want to establish several relationships (Not romantic ones.. Get your head out of the gutter...) before heading to Therum and all. As always, thank you for all your continued support and keep them coming. Thank you all and have a good day…**


	4. Cracking A Social Shell

**Chapter 4 : Cracking A Social Shell**

**So I just watched some pretty gruesome footage of a man blowing his brains out on one of the various videos circling the internet in the wake of that nasty shooting business where he argued on the side of games not being responsible for this outrageous behavior. And to be honest, I have to agree. Most of us here who read this kinda stuff mostly have never fired a gun before and if they have, they'll attest to how terrifying it feels. I myself have a real fear of really sharp objects yet I use it all the time in Dishonored. Basically what I'm getting at is that video games are not the problem. It's the person who did it who is at fault, not some imaginary bogeyman. If the other side were right, nearly 60% of the world's population would be doing this on a daily basis and that has not happened. With that soapbox out of the way, I present to you what you really came here for…**

Well, I could get used to living in the lap of luxury…

If I'm not kidding myself, I could really get used to this comfy bed after a while. It had only been 20 minutes since our departure from the Widow system via the Mass Relay. Right now, my window was showing nothing but blue streaks of light flashing past my eyes at breakneck speeds. My eyes were bedazzled by this foreign sight, not that such information should be made public, lest I crack my well-conceived cover story and make me the subject of a thorough investigation. I wonder if they still do those probe thingys…

After a while, I got bored of that and sat at my desk for five minutes, my hands furiously writing down as many details as I could pluck out from my delirious brain before I lost any important events to the answer 'I don't know'. It was imperative that I kept my advantage, for I had nothing else left to bargain with. To my inherent surprise, the march of technology and our progress in developing us as a powerful species has not destroyed the mighty fountain pen, of which I was provided with in ample supply, along with countless refills of my precious inks. I also took a blank journal and began to write in it, starting with of course my previous endeavors so far. I didn't get very far. Only several pages in total summed up the last few days. One of them simply read, 'Must be dreaming. Pinching myself. Not dreaming. Panicking. It was a nice day.' My mind must have been on drugs at that point…

Eventually my feet got quite restless and would not stop shaking underneath the table. Noting that most of the team would be in the docking bay, prepping for the mission to come, I deemed it necessary to stretch my legs a little and hopefully crack open my introvert shell. That and I was going stir-crazy confining myself to my room. Walking out the door, I shambled towards the med-bay across my room to chat with the elderly doctor, Karin Chakwas. As I passed the mess-hall, I noticed several crewmembers sitting amicably at their chairs, sipping away at sloppy joes or dining on tonight's special, rations. Yay… Some of their gazes averted to me as I passed them by, some peering at me with unending curiosity and some giving me the ol' glare, like I had bumped in on some secret conversation I wasn't in on. Finally making the distance, I ambled into the med-bay/triage center she had going on.

It was a pretty impressive setup overall, at least by Alliance standards. A full stock of medical supplies was neatly piled into a trio of secure lockers in the back. A messy table accentuated her busy workload and the pressure of being the only trained medical staff on hand for a large crew. Several beds were lined on the side, equipped with the basics to keep anyone healthy for several weeks, if necessary. Most likely knowing my luck, I would possibly end up seeing this place a lot by the end of all this. At least for a year or so… Buried underneath said mountain of paperwork was the good doctor herself. Her slowly graying hair and distinguishable wrinkles across her face was enough to fully drive home her age. Despite all that, she still seemed far too eager to work. I realized that certain characters were fated to survive whatever was thrown their way, regardless of the choices Shepard or its resonance in the pond of possibilities. The only one that shared this immortality was the Jeff 'Joker' Moreau and don't list the ending of Mass Effect 3 as an answer. To them I say, you're wrong…

Evidently, the years have apparently been kind to her sense of hearing and she averted her gaze from her desk to my eyes as soon as she heard my feet shuffle uncomfortably, pondering my future conversations with her. She gave a quizzing and perturbed stare, one in which I felt uncomfortable in meeting halfway, my face instinctively turning sideways and peering out the glass windows with a sense of morbid curiosity on display across my face for her to see. Needless to say, I was embarrassed with myself and my cheeks flushed a bright shade of red. I heard a low chuckle emanate from my right and I finally found the nerve to face her again.

"I was not aware of anything interesting outside, Mr. Isaac." Chakwas gave a small smile on her lips. I simply scratched my head in reluctance, my words catching in my throat.

"Sorry, I was just…um…staring off into space. I do apologize." I stuttered slightly, the excuse coming off my tongue as easy as reciting the alphabet. And to be honest, it scared me just a teensy bit too much.

"There's no need for that. I'm afraid you just caught me at a bad time. I haven't had much sleep recently since I've had to peruse a lot of files for my medical check-ups." She spoke softly, her voice slightly rasp and coarse.

"Strange… I thought I was on the list." I mused, passing my irises across the multitude of papers strewn over the well-worn table. Chakwas took note of my findings and explained it quickly.

"And you would have been… had it not been for Dr. Michel's files." She said.

"Oh… I just assumed you wanted to do your own follow-up." I shrugged my shoulders in genuine confusion.

"I trust her enough not to question her judgement. She's a fine doctor in her own right." Chakwas let a short frown escape her senses before her face contorted right back into its usual neutral tone. Could she be biased against Dr. Michel?

"If you say so…" I responded, not knowing what to make of her words. Fortunately, she chose that particular moment to veer off-topic. And right into a prolonged investigation behind my nervous demeanor. Fate really loved playing games with me…

"What's with that frown, Isaac? Something you want to tell me?" she spoke softly, waking me from my trance. I blinked several times in bewilderment before she repeated her question. I nodded, showing that I understood the question before I opened my mouth to speak.

"You're a psychiatrist too?" I had the nerve to jest. Luckily she took in stride, eliciting a low chuckle in response.

"Like or not, I have to care for a full company of men and women, mental health notwithstanding. So what seems to be the problem?" Chakwas folded her arms and legs simultaneously, giving me a piercing glare. While it would have been nice to chalk it up to inexperience in the field, I chose to save some face by blaming it on pre-mission jitters instead.

"It's nothing, doc. Just nerves… That's all." I mumbled. She gave me another withering stare for several moments, before she sighed and relented her barrage of questions.

"I understand. It's acceptable that young recruits like you would be scared. You know, we had our own eager lad earlier." Chakwas pondered, rubbing her temples as if she had a minor migraine pass through her skull. At the mention of lad, I connected the dots almost immediately. Once again, I had to curb my innate geek in me before I mouthed off something potentially damaging.

"Oh?" I tried to ask in a curious manner but only managed to mangle the intended message with my tone of indifference. Thankfully, Chakwas was too lost in her recollections to pay any heed to my tone.

"His name was Jenkins. Boy was he a treat to work with! He had so much passion, so much fire in him. Ah, he was a good kid." She smiled as she said this, her eyes rife with warmth and kindness. They certainly didn't show this in the game. Then again, Mass Effect 1 was bound to be the least spell-binding of the three in terms of facial animations, back then being 2007's most expensive method that rarely paid off.

"What happened to him?" I asked, opting to drown out the answer I already knew. I was a young child then, still hopeful in the prospect of humanity's good graces. I didn't need to hear how he died.

"He was…killed in action." Chakwas lamented to the point. No explanation, no hatred in her eyes at the entity responsible. Just utter sadness topped off with a hint of depression.

"I'm sorry." I murmured in response which was barely any consolation to her. Not that she needed it…

"Don't be. I've seen a lot of death in my career to not make something that affects me professionally. Personally however, I'll miss his eagerness. It always kept the mood light at times." She explained.

"For what it's worth, he sounds like a good man." I surmised. Chakwas just gave me a curt nod of agreement to my response.

"He was…" she trailed off before no doubt banishing such dismal thoughts into the back of her mental junk drawer. Not wishing to let this conversation backslide into a tirade of questions, I made and excuse to leave.

"I have to go now. Nice to meet you, doc." I said after a few moments of silence. She gently nodded her head.

"Of course… Oh, Isaac?" Chakwas called back as I walked out of that room.

"Yes?" I answered, stopping dead in my tracks.

"My name is Chakwas." She said in a motherly tone.

"I'll be sure to remember that…" I joked as I left her field of vision. Going to that elevator, I had to take stock of her words. People were going to die, regardless of any decisions I chose to subvert. I just couldn't save anyone. I could try, no doubt about that… It wouldn't be practical however. There was bound to be periods where it would seem like there was no levity whatsoever. That was the life I chose to make of myself.

And it was going to suck before it got any better…

Stepping out into the cargo hold of the Normandy, I barely gave a second glance at the overall look and feel of the place. What more was there to say? Was I supposed to be awe-struck by the monotone grey walls that was its bread and butter. Shall I mention the identikit lockers and benches to the side? Shall I mention the requisitions officer at the entrance who I can honestly say no one in the known universe save some OCD patient gave two flying shits about? There was nothing worth wasting several minutes caressing in loving detail. Unless of course, grey, boring identikit shooters were your kinda thing. I'm looking at you, Call of Duty….

Still, at least the presence of personas I'd grown to love over the course of three games spiced everything up to an acceptable degree. The multiple personalities working together and bouncing off one another was something normal young adults really loved getting into. As we know however, this is anything far from normal, where an argument amongst anyone in the room could leave someone with a huge hole where their chest used to be. Knowing me, I hope that doesn't happen. Spying Garrus underneath the Mako, I made a beeline to him as quick as can be. Stopping just mere feet in front of the grizzly-bear style Mako, I made a loud coughing sound which was not difficult to do since I sometimes lacked the commitment to drink enough water once in a while. Garrus must have had the shock of his life for he shot up like a firework and banged against the chassis of the vehicle with an almost comedic twang sound. Watching the turian grumble as he rubbed his temple in searing pain, he slid out from underneath the Mako and stood upright, fixing me with a disapproving glare. I simply smiled like a maniac, torn between genuine concern and utter hilarity at the situation.

"Was that really necessary?" he drawled with a groan at the end.

"Not really." I shook my head receptively.

"Then why did you do that?" he questioned, his face contorted to match the throbbing headache he had.

"I thought it was funny." I gave an all-knowing smirk. Garrus shot one back as his next words filtered through my eardrums.

"You do realize that Shepard will need us in tip-top shape for the mission?"

"It's just a bump and you're a military guy. Are you telling me that Garrus Vakarian the C-Sec cop can't handle a little pain?" I teased, watching the turian act taken aback by my statement.

"That's somewhat true." He drawled again.

"So what you working on?" I asked, hoping he didn't answer with his winning phrase. It would be utterly hilarious to point the sexual undercurrent his words had since no-one else had the galls to call him out on it.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm tuning up the Mako for our mission on Therum. Surely you didn't fall asleep during the briefing." He grinned like a sheepdog at the mention of that last sentence. '_Crap, he saw me._' I thought to myself. So, I wasn't exactly great on the whole listening front. Not everyone's perfect…

"Just a little…." I signaled with my fingers, making a tiny space with two of my fingers.

"At least you're brave enough to admit it." He jested, not knowing that his words dug deep into my mind. Bravery? That felt like something out of a sci-fi movie to me, a foreign concept for my introverted, flee from battle mentality.

"Hehehe… Yeah…" I mused, rubbing the back of my head when it started to get a little itchy. That or the topic was making me feel uncomfortable. Noticing my response, he quickly spun the conversation into a different direction.

"So where you from?" he asked hesitantly.

"Earth." I replied in the same tone. Why was it so hard to lie? He was just a human in alien disguise since we didn't exactly know any real aliens to base it off. How hard could it be?

"Oh, I haven't visited there before." He answered, breaking my mental train for the moment.

"We don't get a lot of visitors." I responded with a hint of sadness in my tone. He must have thought I was homesick and he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. He just didn't know which Earth…

"I'm sure it's a nice place." He spoke in a soothing way. I let my muscles relax slightly and gave a curt nod.

"Thanks. Just homesick is all." I answered.

"I don't think you're the only one." Garrus muttered, his gruff voice almost mute. You'd think he was trying to put on a show for everyone, just like I was doing right now.

"What about you? Got anyone back home?" I asked. Garrus looked conflicted, not exactly willing to part with his past. Eventually, he saw no harm in divulging some general information. It wasn't like he was spilling his life's story to me.

"My father and my sister. They're back on Palaven." I gave a quizzical look before donning my understanding look. At least I think that's what it's called…

"They C-Sec like you? I assume it's like a family business of some kind." I took a shot into the darkness.

"You'd be right. My father is retired and my sister Solona just joined the academy recently." Garrus wagged his finger at me, noticing my innate knowledge about the trappings of turian family hierarchies. He must have assumed I was well-read for a human, especially in light of the animosity between both species.

"What about your mother?" I asked dumbly. Too late, I slapped myself on the head mentally for steering this conversation into uncomfortable waters. To my surprise, Garrus blew a long sigh before replying to my query.

"She…uh… passed away. Not too long ago in fact." He answered with sadness. I could almost see those eyes well up in tears and it must have been tough to fight back the urge to cry.

"Sorry to hear that." I calmly told him. He seemed to take it to heart, the pain of fighting back dying down with every passing second.

"What about you?" He finally asked. I felt slightly trapped. I knew I had no choice but to spin off another tale to throw off the trail. Perhaps eventually it may come back to haunt me but for now, it'll do.

"Only child. Didn't know my parents." I stated morosely and plainly, vetoing any notions of sugarcoating my words.

"Sounds like a harsh childhood." He mused in his gravelly tone.

"Trust me. It was…" I trailed off, not even daring to correct how messed up my situation really was.

"Well, I need to get back to it. Can't risk having Shepard breathe down my neck later." Garrus finally tore himself away and went back to work. Taking this opportunity to walk away, I sauntered off in the opposite direction, taking one last chance to end it on a lighter tone.

"Good luck with that, man."

My plans of getting away unnoticed was by all means a shitty plan from the very beginning. Still, I was under the impression that some form of luck would follow me in my endeavors. No such luck shined upon me once again when I was halted in my tracks by a lumbering beast of flesh and bone known as Wrex. His krogan eyes gave a wincing and withering stare into my own irises and I felt my nerves pinch and contract in sheer terror at the walking death machine right in my face, up in my grill. Okay, stop with the rapper mentality, idiot… You'll get yourself killed way too early.

"Human." He stoutly said to my face. My eyes still made eye contact with his, but my eyelids were blinking rapidly and sweat was beginning to form on my brows with all the fear it could muster into a liquid form.

"Wrex." I spoke in as calm as a tone as I could muster from my myriad of emotions. Calm and bravery were in incredibly short supply at the moment.

"You look weak, yet your skills say otherwise." His tone was unchanging, the same gruff, blood-crazy voice that he used to describe anything. Wrex would be horrible at reading bedtime stories, unless of course said bedtime stories were grisly battle stories full of gory details and the thrill of the fight they seem so fascinated with.

"Is there a problem with that, Wrex?" I replied.

"I just wonder how soft your bones will be in a real fight? Will you run or will you stay?" He gave a big wide grin that can't seem to decide between disbelief, loathing and mutual respect. Perhaps it was all three of them at the same time. Not likely, since krogans rarely show off any emotions other than rage or delirious joy. Can anyone here honestly say they've seen a krogan cry before?

"That a threat? Cause I don't take kindly to threats." I stepped forward with wobbly feet, my fists barely clenching together as they felt like jelly in my arms. Every fiber of my body was basically shouting at me to call off my dick move but my brain prayed that I would live long enough to see my efforts come to fruition. In the end, my brain won. Wrex looked somewhat taken aback by my gesture, so much that he took a step back. To you it may not seem like much but for krogan, taking one step back was paramount to surrender or retreat, two words that were written out of their vocabulary a long time ago.

"Heh… You're a surprise to me. Keep that up and you may just live past tomorrow." Wrex smirked as his lips echoed his sentiments. I didn't know whether to feel complimented or insulted.

"Uh…Thanks?" I genuinely replied with bewilderment.

"Don't thank me, human. I've yet to believe that you are worthy of standing beside in combat. Don't disappoint me." Wrex forewarned, ruining any chance of hoping that he still thought of me other than some wimpy kid playing around with the big boys and girls.

"I…uh….uh…" I stuttered.

"Bah, talking makes me upset. I'm going to go shoot some targets. Get some of the blood pumping." Wrex clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Off he rode into the sunset, happily content to lay waste to an army of paper targets. And to think I was starting to feel sorry for them.

"Um… Good luck… with…that." I cried out as his muscular back turned towards the elevator and vanished with a ping sound. As the elevator rose, I walked over to the weapon bench with little sense of direction or sense controlling my legs nor my intentions. As they say, I simply followed along for the ride. As I pored over the tools laid out across the table, I spied three of my fellow comrades doing their own thing.

Garrus was still hard at work on the Mako, now moving on to his all-time favorite of the day, calibrating the machine gun and cannon to near-perfect specifications. Not a single minute was wasted in his meticulous handiwork and it was a real treat to see him work like some savant out of Bioware's other magnum opus. Come to think of it, I had to ask myself, what was Bioware's magnum opus? Certainly wasn't Jade Empire. That's for damn sure… Anyway, Garrus' hand lit up like Christmas lights as he applied blowtorch to turret, the fiery embers shooting off every edged surface of the vehicle. His eyes were neatly encapsulated by a pair of custom goggles, built specifically to fit his eyes only. This display of engineering was almost enough to convince me of his tech prowess as rivaling that of Tali. Almost…

Speaking of every favorite OCD in a suit if I may be so blunt, she was rummaging through some leftover scrap metal and garbage left lying about in a pile in the opposite corner. Her hands tossed aside piece after piece after piece, her covered irises looking for something of importance to her. After a few minutes or so, she emerged from the rubble disappointed. Her feet carried all the way back to the elevator where she no doubt took it back to her home away from home, the engineering deck. No question about it… Adams will have one heck of an easy job with her in business with him. And to be honest, he might just as well deserve said time off till the inevitable fate of the maiden version comes true and things turn belly side up in no time. I had no doubt in my mind that she was looking for something worthwhile to send back to dear ol' daddy's science appaloosa in their flotilla. One can only assume that not sending said parts may help prevent such a tragedy from occurring to her. On the other hand, she needs said gift to complete her Pilgrimage, the rite of passage so common to their race it's as old as breathing itself. It was another matter that compounded itself on top of the dozens of sub-plots, events and story deets that piled itself atop my already taxed brain. Well, if I do die, at least I won't have to worry too much anymore. Just what heaven in the Mass Effect happens to look like…

Kaiden meanwhile was having an amicable chat with the quartermaster nearby, occasionally pointing to his digital pad every so often with the crook of his thumb. Also every so often, both men would shake or nod their heads in unison, most likely going through every detail on their supplies in triplicate. Kaiden was to my mind a strong character. A great backstory incorporating racism against his type of people, his struggle with dealing with the migraines he suffers from due to his L2 implants and in the case of game logic and statistics, staying revelant enough to be saved. Once again, his fate was the subject of another deep thought. Only one person so far had managed to pull off a heroic save of both him and Ashley, whereby the other stories have not yet explored this main facet of changing the course of history. Even then, he ended up as a cripple, pardon the use of the term. So what would happen were I to attempt such a feat? Was I doomed to die in place of him? Will someone else take the fall, like Garrus or Tali? What would happen? Questions I had no answer to and to top it all off, I had zero training whatsoever aside from my martial arts skills which would barely make a dent against any sane opponent or the multitude of badasses floating around in this universe. All that thinking clouded my judgement, so much that I failed to notice a familiar brunette sneak up behind on the weapon bench. Her cough was the only indication of her presence, which startled me like any good horror flick, sending shivers down my spine.

"Oh, it's you. I didn't notice you stop by." I flipped about and came face-to-face with Ashley, who gave me the second cold glare I had all day. What was with the cold shoulder treatment?

"I'm sure, kid." She shot back, clearly frustrated at having to wait so long for me to snap out of my stupor. I scratched the back of my head again and took a step back from the bench, allowing Ashley to just muscle in and take hold of her workplace.

"I'll…I'll just get out of your way…." I mumbled apologetically. She did not seem to register my answer till several moments had elapsed.

"Thank you." She snarkily responded, neither insulting nor complimenting me. More like acting extremely confused and slightly incensed… As I stood back and watched her set up her tools, I made a dumb move of letting my mouth take over for me, instead of using my brain like a smart person would.

"So, what are you going to do, Ashley?" I said. She flippantly spun about and placed her fists on her hips and frowned while she looked at me.

"First of all, you can't call me that. Not someone like you." She told me in a matter-of-factly tone. I was taken aback by her attitude, cavalier and uncaring. Then again, she had no clue what I was going through. And I had no intention of letting her in on the secret.

"Everyone calls you that." I replied, throwing my arm across the entire room and pointing towards the few individuals still mucking about the hangar bay.

"Yeah well everyone else is an expert and an asset to our mission. You don't even have any training. You're just here along for the ride." She mentioned to me. She looked deeply irritated at her having to tell me what we both already knew. '_If only you knew…._' I muttered under bated breath and within an acceptable decibal volume that wasn't broadcasted on every channel.

"I'm sorry… Did I step on your foot or something or did you just take lessons from Wrex?" I retorted, my patience starting to run thin. Ashley huffed out her chest and spoke as calmly as she could though I could tell her own limit was nearing a close.

"I just don't know why Shepard saw it fit to bring you along." She summed up her beliefs in me in one fell swoop.

"That makes two of us." I surmised, agreeing somewhat to her assessment.

"So, you think you can handle yourself?" she raised an eyebrow as her eyes broke contact from me and went to the table instead.

"Honestly, no." "Look, I'm not dumb enough to try and fool you so I'm going to be straightforward and blunt. I could use some training and I was hoping…" I emphatically appealed to her supposed nature, trailing off as she finished out my sentence.

"You were hoping that I'd train you from the bottom of my heart?" she sarcastically told me.

"Pretty please?" I tried making puppy eyes to her but she just rolled her eyes and let her tongue wag slightly. Incidentally, she gave a long sigh, her chest rising and falling to match her labored breath. She finally broke the silence after a full minute.

"Come on, let's see what you got." She replied. Wait, what?

"What? Now?" I responded incredulously as she walked towards the elevator.

"Of course. We won't have time otherwise." Ashley answered my question, motioning for me to follow.

"Uh…Okay…" I stuttered out. Okay, this will be interesting to see where it goes. Maybe somewhere good that doesn't involve heights…

Anything but that…

Ten minutes later and I was standing next to Ashley in the shooting range, her face fully capturing her no-nonsense attitude to shooting practice. She placed the futuristic equivalent of ear protection on me and I felt it snap into place around my earlobes with a feeling of enclosure washing over me. She did the same to herself in a fraction of my time, grabbing the assault rifle and pistol stacked in the locker. I myself nabbed a pistol and a submachine gun from the same locker and joined her in the shooting gallery. Taking position in one of the cramped booths, I noticed Wrex pumping away at the targets with his engorged shotgun like they were nothing more than tissue paper and paper mache. It was impressive to see him at work and even more amazing to see the gigantic bullet holes in those targets afterwards. A slight cough from Ashley broke me from my stupor and brought it firmly back to her speech.

"Okay, listen up. This here is not a toy you can get for a hundred credits in any gift shop. This is a real weapon and like it or not, these things can do some real damage if you're not careful. Is that clear, Isaac?" she spoke in a gruff manner, one befitting a drill sergeant.

"Yes…" I stopped, unclear what to call her since she won't allow me to use her name. Unfortunately, she had the unequivocal mind to notice my reaction and react accordingly.

"Yes, ma'am." She said.

"Yes, ma'am." I repeated. Her face broke into a small smirk as she launched back into her lecture. I had to hold myself from groaning in perceived agony, not if I wanted to get a face full of hot lead.

"Good, now what I'm holding is a standard Alliance sidearm, the M-3 Predator. This thing is a semi-auto with a clip of 12, perfect in a pinch. However, it is ill-advised to make this as a primary sustenance, not unless you have biotics to back you up." She held the gun up to my eyes and spun it around, revealing its intricacies. The slight scratches, the smooth edges of the weapon. Its frame and the oddly curious use of the thermal clips, especially in ME1's era was all on full display. '_No, I do not…_' I pondered when I heard her last words.

"The most common firing stance we like to use in the Alliance is the Weaver stance. This involves using both of your hands to steady your aim and your eyes firmly down the sight for maximum accuracy and lethality. I will demonstrate." She showed off the stance before hitting the range and commencing with the shooting. For the next minute or so, Ashley kept her calm and fired near perfect, each round leaving the pistol hitting its target. Her hands remained clenched around the frame and juddered along with it when it recoiled back with each shot. Eventually, she expended her magazine and popped a sizzling thermal clip onto the floor. I watched the thermal clip burn bright on the ground, lighting it up like a Christmas tree or a flare if I may be so inclined. She reached for her target and to her satisfaction, all of her rounds were grouped together in a tight cluster. To say I was impressed was something no one my age and lifestyle could argue with. For Ashley, I'm sure that sort of feat is commonplace in her line of work.

"Now you try…" she said, ushering me to the plate. I felt my nerves give way and my hands shook violently like I was on the verge of having a stroke. Ashley was only content to stand by and watch as I shook uncomfortably in my stance. She didn't even have the decency to correct my form. It was like she wanted to fail. So, eventually I raised my pistol and looked down the sights, my eyes lining up to the target as best as can be. Letting my finger slide into the trigger, I was all but ready to pull the trigger. To describe my emotions would be easy and difficult at the same time. On the one hand, I felt determined to overcome this challenge, just like I had with our family's economic downsizing. I was more than ready to prove myself and show them the errors of judging a book by its cover. On the other hand, a serious thought overtook them all. I was truly afraid, quaking in my boots. Yet I was scared and afraid at the same time.

Afraid at what this act will make me become…

**Thank you all for reading. I opted against putting in the results of the first live firing so to keep it more focused on the squad's reactions to the character's presence amongst their ranks. Thanks again for your favs, follows, reviews and I hope to see you again soon. Oh, and go ahead and watch Cyberpunk 2077's latest trailer. CD Projekt Red is making what looks to be a spectacular game and I can't wait to see it in action. Until then, have fun and be CO-OPERATIVE!**


	5. On Firm Ground

**Chapter 5 : On Firm Ground**

**Welcome back. I'm sorry if this update seemed a bit too long. I've been busy getting back to the daily grind of college life as it is and coming up with new ideas for my other fanfic. Nevertheless, I hope this chapter will keep you all entertained for the most part. Enough talk! On with the show…**

My eyes remained steadfastly closed to the point that they were wrapped like a cocoon around bulging flesh. I dared not open my eyes, out of fear and shock. The thunderous noise that accompanied the firing was nothing short of loud and obnoxious like a beer party on the rocks, the screaming of a hundred students amplified to 11. I felt my nostrils try to take in a fresh gulp of air, only for it to be met by the stench and the smell of burning metal emanating from my gun. I almost forgot that we were in the future here. Smokeless gunpowder does not exist anymore. Now it's the age of smelling steam and molten metal like you have an armpit fetish. Whoopdee-freaking-doo… Eventually, I felt my nerves level into a calm demeanor and let my eyelids swing open to the world.

It was not a pretty sight. First of all, Ashley was staring me down with the most displeased look I'd ever seen in my entire life. Her eyebrows were furrowed at an almost menacingly narrow angle. Her lips were somewhat pouty as the muscles around it squeezed to fit her outlook and the daggers in her irises was sharp enough to match even the most well-kept katana. That was the moment when my own eyes turned sharply to see my target dead-on. I couldn't really blame her from that point onwards. Not only were my shots completely off-target, the ones that did make an impact did so on the adjacent targets in the other damn lanes. Those gaping bullet holes singeing with a wisp of white smoke reminded me of how lucky I am that Wrex was two lanes down. I don't think he would have taken too kindly to me picking off his turkeys for him. I couldn't even muster up the courage to look at him, let alone Ashley.

"That was… adequately disappointing." Ashley surmised morosely as she shook her head. I merely looked down in shame. God, what I would do to just melt away at that point.

"Tell me about it. That was freaking weaksauce." I mumbled to her.

"Try not to close your eyes when you pull the trigger. You need to keep your sights on the target and to make it hits dead center." She explained. I had to try very hard not to give in to my urge to sock her in the face. Where the hell was she when I needed her?

"Alright… Can we have another go?" I asked politely. I could almost feel her breath take a chilly aftertone when she let out a huge sigh, the breeze catching across my skin. I was certain I was going to have goosebumps later on.

"You have the floor. Just try not to embarrass yourself again." She waved her hand to the stand as she stepped back to allow me the freedom to move in.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I spoke sarcastically, taking my place and adopting the firing stance once again. My hands started to tremble uncontrollably from the tension and my palms exacerbated the feeling by dousing the grip in cold sweat. I could even see out of the corner of my eye a bead of sweat drip down the edge of the gun and plink harmlessly on the equally icy floor. Well, here goes nothing…

My finger curled around the trigger and squeezed tightly on the small chunk of metal. Instantly, the effects hit me like an aftershock. The gun recoiled violently in my general direction and my body accommodated this momentum, dragging me along for the ride. The telltale hiss of dispensing heat filled my eardrums as shot after shot left my deadly tool. Pretty soon, I had a comfortable rhythm and I could feel the drum of gunfire sync with my own beating heart. It was exhilarating, an adrenaline induced high especially for a young man like me who has never held a gun before. When I felt the thermal clip eject with a plop from the gun, I lowered my weapon to see the damage. It was a favorable improvement from my last sojourn. While several of the shots went wide, some managed to find their mark, albeit at the outer ends of the target. The inner circle was relatively untouched by the onslaught, save for two lucky rounds.

"That's good. Not what we need but a solid improvement overall. You might just be ready for the field, kid." Ashley remarked, her eyes glinting over my performance. I was quite proud of myself but I was even more taken aback by her compliment.

"My, my… A compliment from you, Ashley? The world must be ending indeed." I responded in a dry, witty tone. Fortunately, she played along to my banter.

"Watch it there or I'll make you regret that smart-ass remark, Isaac." She warned, pointing a threatening finger at me and giving me the eye. You know, the glare. Not her actual eye… That'd be disgusting…

"Duly noted, Ashley." I stated.

"Well, I think I should head back. Need to service my weapons before the mission." Ashley said, her finger waggling at the exit. I merely nodded in response and let her be. After all, if her guns jam and she gets into trouble, it'd be on me. And I don't exactly want anyone dying anytime soon.

"Good luck with that." I replied. She gave a stout smile before whisking her hair back and walking out the door.

"See ya around, kid." She called from across the room as her figure left my viewpoint. I have to say, that wasn't so bad. Sure it was tough at the beginning but it felt easy to get a hang of. Course, I needed to practice with my preferences. I'm not taking this wimpy pistol into battle with me. I would barely trust it with my car keys. So, with a smirk from Wrex as he watched me, I took up my custom weapons, headed to the firing range and began what was to be my own personal turkey shoot.

Finally found something worth writing about…

When all was said and done, I emerged from the shooting range in high spirits. It was an all-time euphoric high, something I compared to taking drugs in the back-alleys. But I'm not advocating drugs… So, please ignore this badly worded sentence… Ahem… Anyway, I reeked of salty sweat and a stench that would make cartoon characters pull clothespins from their pockets, alongside the droopy eyes deprived of good sleep and arms that felt more like jelly than extremities. To put it bluntly, firing guns was exhausting. Do you know how heavy my guns were? Not the muscles on my arms. Those I did not have. I meant the custom builds I would have to shuffle around with in combat. Those things weighed a ton, even with the carbon-fiber parts and lightweight materials. Even my school books weren't that heavy and let me tell you, high school for me was marked by the age-old tradition of lugging a stack of books across the hall on my back. It was amazing how my back wasn't crying viva revolution earlier. Dragging my heels forward even another inch was taking its toll on me. I was in no mood to do anything else, not even a nice, hot shower. The elevator ride up was far more excruciating, mainly because I had to freaking stand for all of ten minutes while the dumbass piece of shit technology took its time. As soon as my body passed the door to my room, I was all but tempted to keel over and plop down on my soft, warm and inviting mattress and let the world pass me by like Rip Van Winkle. I had to collect as much mental stamina as I would allow just to force my exhausted form into the bathroom. Not even the hot water raining down from the shower head could help allay my exhaustion. So it was that I quickly dressed into some comfy garb and went off to la-la land to dream of unicorns and rainbows…

Okay, so maybe not that…

When my eyes next laid claim to the world before me, I could tell a great deal of time had passed since my slumber. For one, the searing blue streaks of planetary space were no longer present through the vacuum-sealed glass. Another major telltale sign was the blaring alarm clock sitting smugly on my end table, alongside my leather box containing my glasses. Slurring a cohesive thought together, my first instinct was to slam my finger on the snooze button repeatedly. Anything to keep the noise from rendering me deaf. The covers were the next to go, crumpled in a heap on the other side of my bed like an afterthought, just as I had always done back home. My feet mustered a bit of energy to shamble over to the bathroom, where I got a look at myself in the mirror for the first time since I got here.

I looked like a pile of poop. My brown irises were obscured by an even darker shade of black creasing and forming around the bridge of my eyes. My black hair was utterly disheveled and unkempt, stray strands of musky hair follicles dangling vicariously over my face. Speaking of which, my lips were completely dry and cracked. I swear this is true. The moment I touched my lips, a loose bit of dead skin fell off and drooped to the floor. I needed a drink, fast…

Fifteen minutes elapsed since that moment and I found myself walking along the halls of the CIC deck, clutching a half-filled container and taking periodic swigs from it. The gush of fresh, cooling liquids eased my parched throat and gave me some form of relief, something I was in desperate need of since I got myself into this mess. Passing by the galaxy map, I spotted our favorite witty pilot rightly seated in his helmsman's chair and watched his finger shuffle digital displays in every direction. Seeing an opportunity to ingrain myself further into my new life, I chose to amble on over to talk. Taking light, easy and best of all silent steps rewarded me with the chance to scare the bejeebers out of him. He did a little jump in his chair, though I was worried that the fall may have hurt his backside.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!" he exclaimed loudly into my ears. His tone was so high that the nearest ensigns flipped their heads in our general direction to see what the fuss was about. After a quick confused stare from them, they swiveled in their seats and returned to the daily grind. I myself put on my best apologetic face as I rotated back to meet him.

"Sorry about that. Just wanted to talk is all." I replied. Joker merely crossed his arms slightly and gave me a glancing look that screamed annoyance.

"Well, if you wanted to talk you could have sent a message earlier. I don't have clairvoyance, you know." He rudely implied with a sprinkling of wit thrown in for good measure.

"Who said anything about clairvoyance? I just assumed that you were easily frightened. You didn't wet your pants, did you?" I jested. His ears seemed to perk up at the discovery of another witty soul in his presence, much like Facebook groups.

"Nope, still dry." He chuckled. "My name's Joker by the way." He extended his hand. I could see that he was taking regular doses of medicine to keep him in check. Thin, stout puncture marks were scattered everywhere on his arm. I almost believed to be some kind of sadistic astronomy class, not a life-saving medicine run.

"Isaac." I returned the gesture with a smile.

"Oh, yeah… You're the new guy, right? The one Ashley was mumbling during poker." He stated, placing a finger to his lips and putting on his best curious face.

"Sigh… here we go." I moaned. He seemed to take pride in watching me squirm. He was going to get his comeuppance, if I had anything to say about it…

"Did you really do that badly?" he asked with a grin as wide as a railway track.

"Did you really just take your eyes off the road?" I shot back quickly. He seemed relaxed, content like my comment barely fazed him.

"It's cool. I could fly this baby blindfolded if I were allowed to." He explained smugly.

"Now, that's something I'd pay top credit to see." I whistled impressively, to which he responded with a proud beam on his exterior.

"What's stopping you?" he asked, holding out his hands for the money he expected to receive.

"A pressing urge to stay alive." I retorted wittily.

"Downer…" he spoke, bemused and slightly disappointed.

"Anyway… How long have we got before we hit Therum?" I whirled the conversation to a more serious topic. He seemed to catch my drift, since he sat upright and looked at me with a straight face.

"You're in luck. I was just about to inform Shepard of our status. But since you're here…" he winded back to his old personality.

"Can't you go do it yourself? You can walk, right?" I had to say this, even if it made me feel uncomfortable. Better to keep my cover completely intact, even if it meant I might offend him. To his credit, his frown wasn't completely lopsided.

"Um, don't know if you noticed but I've got brittle bones. Can't really do much when my bones are like glass." He spat out morosely, like he had told this shindig before. His eyebrows were at a complete vertical angle that creased his temple into something wholly indistinct. It was a far different Joker than from what I was used to seeing. Considering my position however, that kinda thing doesn't bounce on the radar no more.

"I…uh…. I'm sorry. I didn't know." I apologized, bowing my head down in shame, despite my acknowledgement of the necessity of said action.

"It's alright. New people tend to make that mistake a lot." He dismissed, waving his hand in my direction.

"Fine, I'll go deliver the message. Anything else?" I blankly said. I was about to head off when Joker whistled from behind my back. He quickly let out what he meant to say.

"Do you think she'll agree to my request for more storage space?" he questioned in a seemingly innocent tone.

"For what?" I responded with a cautious overtone.

"Personal reasons…" he shrugged his shoulders. It took a while to understand the meaning behind his words at first but clarity was a fickle thing that always came to bite you in ass.

"I don't want to know, buddy. And I'm sure she doesn't either." I replied, genuinely creeped out from his suggestion. I was all for expressing a healthy…um… lifestyle. Just not in public where everyone can see. Especially if you're in a position to get surprises from behind all the time… Not that I told him…

"It was worth a try…" he stated miserably. His big-tooth ridden grin said otherwise.

"I better go if I want to catch her. See ya later, Joker." I said.

"See you around, Isaac." He spoke warmly as he watched me shuffle down the rows of computers and the ensigns manning them behind him. From a distance, I could see a short snippet of his… personal files before the headphones went on. I snorted to myself and shook my head as I headed to the elevator, my finger depressing on the Captain's Cabin button on my right.

Lotta frat boys in this club….

I gotta say… Shepard has some of the best digs in town. Not joking, her place could rival that of the most expensive apartments on Illium and I haven't even been there yet. Perhaps it's that atypical symptom of being in a place so unreal that everything by comparison to your own perception is perceived as awesome. Think about it, you'd definitely see Star Trek fans cream their Patrick Stewart pants if they ever saw the Enterprise in real life. Incidentally, that might just help me out of this jam. Ah, well. Can't win them all…

Anyway, the place was nothing short of breathtaking. The bed was fit for a queen. Nice, soft and comfy pillows laid atop a fluffy mattress with a sweet true-blue leather blanket. A simple fish tank was suspended in a plane of hardcase glass, dangling precariously from several thin strings made from hardened titanium metal, enhanced with stainless steel. Books upon books of the latest strategy and the compulsory Art of War that every leader was bound to possess was neatly stacked in one handy little shelf. The spines felt wholly unmolested which was in its own a testament to her care for her objects. '_And people, let's not forget the people…_' I had to stifle a chuckle as my brain flashed through each and every 'encounter' Shepard could possibly have. I was so busy looking through the place that I failed to notice the platinum-blonde step out of her study and look at me with curious eyes, her hands firmly locked in on her thighs. I don't think I need to mention what that did for my little friend down below.

"Enjoying yourself with an impromptu tour, I see?" Shepard gave a smile as I abruptly spun around at the mere hint of her presence in the room.

"Just…um…taking in the place. It looks quite unreal." I intoned, stumbling over my words at first.

"You like it? All paid for by the Alliance. If I had known that they were giving this stuff away, I would have begged Anderson to let me be the XO for a day." Shepard replied with barely contained glee.

"I can certainly see the appeal in that." I raised my eyebrow a few degrees.

"So why are you here?" Shepard asked. Crap, I almost forgot what I came here for!

"Oh, yeah… Joker wanted me to tell you that we are a few minutes out from Therum." I recalled vividly. Who could forget such a conversation? Shepard or Alison, if I may say was none too surprised at the news. In fact, she looked downright delirious. I think I'm not the only one with a problem in idle feet.

"That's good. We should probably go gear up." She said in a authorative tone.

"If you say so…" I mumbled incoherently. While my words were utterly garbled, Shepard was quick to pick up on the fact that something was amiss.

"Something wrong?" she queried.

"Just worried about my first time in the field… Or any combat situation for that matter." I openly answered. In truth, it was just one of the many reasons my heart felt like it was fit to bursting. She placed a reassuring palm on my shoulder and gently patted it with all the tenderness of a mother sending her kid off to school for the first day.

"Hey, hey… Just stick close to me and you'll be fine. You understand?" she murmured into my ear, shaking me ever so slightly.

"I got it. Still doesn't make me any less nervous." I explained as I felt her hand release its grip on my shoulder blade.

"If it makes you feel any better, I bet most of the people here were taking potty breaks in their uniforms when they first signed up…" I could not help but look awestruck with her reply. It was flabbergasting to put it bluntly.

"Okay, that would work." I answered with a slight chuckle thrown in for good measure. _'I'd like to see a picture of that someday. Though preferably not mine._' I pondered as I let her words dig in.

"Come on, we don't have much time." She said, already halfway to the elevator by the time I even heard her orders.

"You got it, boss." I responded quickly as I dragged my feet as best I could before the doors had the misfortune of closing in my face. I certainly didn't want a repeat of the time some jackhole closed the car door in my face while I was trying to get out.

Back downstairs, it was a form of organized chaos. Everyone was frantically pulling up their skin-tight armor up to their bodies, the metal clamping down on their skin and encasing it in padded protection. Guns were being field-checked in triplicate by both Ashley and Garrus, both of whom whose hands flew in every single direction imaginable at mach speeds, their fingers nothing more than an incomprehensible blur. Tali was double checking her omni tool every single moment, her combat drone laid out before her. The way she took care of that thing was akin to a dog owner dedicating his or her life to keeping it in the laps of luxury. I found it quite perplexing at first but eventually just assumed it to be a form of social interaction for her since she was quite shy in the first game. Can't really fault her. I was like that for the better part of my teenage upbringing. Wrex meanwhile was already all set, passing the time with a monotonous shuffle in a circle around the Mako, eyeing it with all the edginess of a pure combatant. If I were to bet who'd win in a fight between me and Wrex, my money would be on the krogan. If he were up against an armored truck with a gun the size of his….gun, then I'd say it'd be fairly even. Kaiden was assisting me in my own preps, having seen me struggle to fit into the pauldrons and chestpiece of my own custom suit.

"Try not to move too much. It won't fit otherwise." Kaiden mused as he struggled to squeeze me into the black and white suit. Before you ask, no it does not look anything like Miranda's swimsuit/uniform and yes, I'm aware its colors are the same. Stop reading too much into things…

"What are you, my fussy mom? Ouch, that hurts!" I exclaimed in pain as he yanked the armor up, causing it chafe and snag on one of my ribs. I didn't get a chance to massage it tenderly before Kaiden yanked the armor even further up my body.

"Sorry about that…" he said softly. I merely glared at him when those words passed his lips with a tight grin.

"You did that on purpose." I retorted. Instantly, he jovially shrugged and raised his hands.

"What? Me? Don't kid yourself, Isaac. I couldn't be capable of doing something so heinous." He said humorously. I felt slightly irritated, rolling my eyes at his wisecrack.

"Ha, ha wiseguy. Just get this done." I spat out with some semblance of control.

"As you wish." "And there. You're pretty much covered. Go hand on your firearms to Garrus. He'll take it from there." Kaiden spoke as he finished the final details on the armor set. I took it for a twirl as soon as he was done. The armor was far better than I expected. The metal wasn't too heavy until my legs were snapped midway on the floor, nor was it too light that any explosion might send me off to the moon. Even better, the plates of metal fit snugly enough to provide ample breathing room, though not enough to ignore the dangers of depressurization. It did help that it looked pretty nice too. Kaiden gave me a short briefing on how to do it myself in the future. It's not like I should be babysitted all the time by grown men. What was I, twelve? Don't answer that…

"Thanks, Kaiden." I replied after he had finished rattling off his words of wisdom.

"Anytime, Isaac." He said, moving away from me and forming up with Wrex near the Mako. I on the other hand went over to Garrus, guns in tow to get it checked out. Garrus by this point was flustered and slightly overwhelmed as he disassembled and reassembled another rifle in record time. Having me go along to get mine checked in to his service probably didn't help matters any more.

"Um, Garrus?" I politely asked, tapping him lightly on his shoulders.

"What?! Can't you see I'm busy?" he twisted around and spat out, his mandibles flapping with every syallable. Shit, was Garrus scary when he was pissed off. Not Wrex-scary but close enough…

"Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset." I mumbled. Garrus was embarrassed and he looked at me with guilty irises.

"It's… It's alright. Just a little stressed out, is all." He muttered apologetically. I simply nodded in agreement. I had to set aside my ego. Lives were at stake.

"Doesn't this happen on every mission?" I asked, pointing to the ensemble cast of metallic parts strewn over the workbench. Garrus did not answer at first and cast his eyes towards Ashley, who was in the process of cleaning her own rifle alongside several sidearms. I could see that both of them were clearly invested in their respective duties, so much so that everything just faded into the background. Dedication, that's what I would call it. Others? Mind-numbing obsession. Those people could go to hell for all I care.

"Not exactly. Shepard wanted everyone on deck for this mission. She said it was to gauge our performance with her own eyes. I told that would be slightly problematic due to the space in the Mako and the prep-work needed to get everything set. But she is the boss, so I'm obliged to follow her orders." He explained. It made sense. She wanted to get to know her crew just a little bit better and tailor her squad selections to fit the situation at hand. An assessment or evaluation if you prefer…

"You sound like you don't enjoy this all too much." I mused curiously. Garrus seemed taken aback by my statement, regarding it as a naïve viewpoint.

"Are you kidding? Going after a rogue Spectre with the fate of the galaxy in our hands without all the red tape that accompanies it. No investigations, no hoops to pass through. It's something different, that much I can say." Garrus told me in an excited tone. He seemed glad that he could stretch his legs, figuratively speaking.

"You believe in those visions?" I spoke incredulously. I had to keep up appearances after all. No matter what I knew… I was getting pretty good at it too. Almost fooled myself into trusting in my tangled web.

"Well, truth be told, I myself find it slightly unbelievable at first. But this is a decorated veteran commander we're talking about here. No way she'd be lying." He said.

"What makes you say that?" I queried.

"You don't know?" he spoke, raising an eyebrow in shock.

"Don't know what?" I asked again, slightly perplexed.

"Sigh… You heard about Akuze?" he sighed as he nudged me along. As soon as he said Akuze, another aspect of Shepard's past locked into place. So she got saddled with Sole Survivor. That can't be good for her mentally in the long-term.

"Oh, shit…" I exclaimed, my eyes lighting up with clarity. Garrus nodded in grim agreement to my reply.

"Yep, she was there from what I heard." Garrus answered.

"Where in the world did you hear that? You're a turian for crying out loud!" I questioned. How did he know? It's not like the Alliance makes said information public to everyone nor did I think that any other species would give a damn about it.

"Let's just say that word gets around well enough. People talk." He explained, seeing me contort my face into a curious one.

"Shit, that must have been brutal for her." I intoned, rubbing my head as I imagined the landscape of Akuze in my own mentality. It was hard to picture, seeing as it's one of the few things about the Mass Effect universe that didn't get any enhanced background or even a little picture to its name. One of the many pitfalls of being too ambitious in those days… The only images that depicted this in full, unadulterated fashion would be a bloodied Shepard standing amidst a battleground of corpses, both human or otherwise. It shuddered me how callous I was with said description. Was I already getting too desensitized, even before the first battle has had time to sink its teeth into me?

"That it is, Isaac. That it is. Anyway, off topic. I assume you have your own gear to sort out?" Garrus drawled in his usual mannerisms, sending me right back to the dull drag that was reality. At least, I thought it was…

"Huh? Oh, yeah… Here." I replied, pulling my precious items from my rucksack and passing it on to Garrus' own awaiting palms. His three-fingered hands got to work, inspecting each and every aspect of the weapons with scalpel-precision. From the adjustable scope on my sniper rifle to the rapidfire reload system duly attached to my submachine gun, nothing was safe from his prying eyes and his monocle optic. With a slight grunt, he set the firearms on the table before turning back to me.

"I'll get it back to you in the Mako." Garrus intoned. Casting my eyes to the spruced up transport, I almost had an urge to question how all of us were going to fit in that thing, plus all our gear and weapons. But seeing as how he was going to be very busy, I saw it fit not to waste anymore time delaying the inevitable. Like it or not, I was going to have to fight sooner or later. Better earlier before the shit really hits the fan.

"Thanks, Garrus." I readily nodded after a brief pause. With a quick wave, we both went our separate ways, at least for the time being. All I could do now was walk up the ramp into the Mako and take up my seat in the sardine can, hoping for the best and perhaps a quick prayer mixed in for good measure. Soon enough, the vehicle slowly filled up to the brim with our team. Shepard took the driver's seat and adjusted her seat to accommodate her figure and fiddled with the controls till she was satisfied with the layout. Kaiden came in next and took the seat next to Shepard, coordinating with her on navigation and general layout of the area. Wrex on the other hand came in with Tali and both were saddled on either side of me, one side's rough, scaly skin making scruff marks on my pristine armor set while the other side was eerily smooth and untouched that I recoiled instinctively from brushing too much against her. I wasn't some perverted old man and I certainly wasn't going to pick now to do so. Plus she had a shotgun on hand, so that'd be a hard thing to overcome. Ashley and Garrus walked in last, seating just behind Kaiden and Shepard up front and directly opposite us. With each pass, they tossed our firearms back into our awaiting hands. In my case, I fumbled the dangerous item in the air and nearly dropped the ball altogether. Only a quick save by Tali saved us from having our torsos shredded by friendly fire. Everyone shot me a withering glare after that during pre-flight check to which I curled up in my seat and looked down at the floor with shame. Graceful, I certainly wasn't. Clumsy? That was my middle name…

"All systems check. Kaiden, how's things on your end?" Shepard called from in front as her eyes flickered between each and every dial on the dashboard. Please, please don't let me get a crazy lunatic who drives like a maniac. In the real world, that'd be grounds for getting your license revoked.

"We're all set here. Ready on your orders." Kaiden responded over the comms, giving a thumbs up to Shepard, then to us. I grimaced, clasping the metal bars on either side with my sweaty palms for dear life. My heart started to beat with a resounding thud and I could already feel it drop a few inches in dreaded anticipation for that moment.

"Joker, open the hangar doors. We're going down." Shepard's collected voice echoed in the Mako's interior. The intercom crackled with each person's dialogue passing through its electronic wiring. It did little to allay my doubts about my own readiness to handle the cards dealt to me, reminding even more of the scarier Japanese games I've had the discomfort of playing. Anyone who says Silent Hill 2 didn't make you consider washing your laundry to avoid embarrassment was an outright liar in my opinion.

"Roger that, Commander. Be safe out there." He said. What about the rest of us?

"Will do." She coolly replied. As I heard the hangar bay open, the vehicle roared to life as she pressed her foot on the gas. The thing lurched forward and the momentum dragged us along for the ride, keeping my adrenaline levels dangerously high. And pretty soon, we were freefalling nearly 30,000 feet from up above, in a vehicle I had serious misgivings about and a fear of heights compounding it even further. For me, it was one for the bucket list.

For everyone else, it was just another day at the office…

**Thank you all for your support and endorsements on your own fanfics. I am deeply grateful for it and I enjoy hearing feedback, good or bad. That being said, I am in dire need of some of that energy for my other fanfics. If you have the time, go visit my page and check out my other fanfics. While you're at it, follow or leave a review for it. Thanks again for your support, enjoy this express chapter that I cranked out in two days and see you again soon… I hope…**


	6. Off The Deep End

**Chapter 6 : Off The Deep End**

**Time for chapter 6 to make its debut run. This chapter may contain more spelling errors and mistakes due to the fact that this is my first time using a laptop to write and I'm not exactly used to the keyboard just yet. I apologize in advance if this upsets you and I hope this issue is resolved by the next chapter. If that's all, let's continue with our grand adventure, shall we?**

Somehow that lurching feeling just got even worse. Flying in a metal death trap at 30,000 feet tends to give you an all-new perspective on life. Mine? The sight of the damn floor as I belched out a deluge of crap that used to represent my lunch earlier in the day. Every person in the vehicle groaned at the look of my green puke contaminating their pristine floor and stinking up the place. Swear that I even saw Garrus cringe in pained expression during my puke-a-thon, no doubt pondering the time he would have to spend cleaning that festering puddle later on. To be honest, I couldn't blame him. Wiping the drops of saliva dribbling down my mouth like I was salivating, I finally gained enough clarity and control over my motion sickness to peek out the slit that served as the window for our vehicle, plastered over of course with dual-layered bulletproof poly glass. Outside, Therum looked pretty much like a barren wasteland, replete with little aside from the dusty soil and the soft howl of the breezing winds rocketing our little showboat. Shepard's driving did little to allay my rocking horse gut-wrenching feeling. How is it that a trained commander with a goddamned N7 designation could drive like an utter lunatic at the helm and still get past the instructors? Did all the trainers drop acid at the same freaking time during her evaluation?

All that I could do in my power was to strap in and hope for the best. But even that failed me merely ten nanoseconds into our little sojourn. A blast from an unknown source smashed right next to us, kicking up a dust cloud that obscured her view. My only warning of company was the dizzying swerve and the echo of Shepard's cry to arms.

"Geth armatures on our right! Three of them taking potshots at us, 500 meters!" she yelled back to us. Looking over to my crewmembers, every one of them looked grimly at each other for a split second then crossed their eyes over to the gunner seat in the exposed turret up front. All of them save me were willing to take the risk, though Wrex seemed extremely giddy at the idea. Looking back, I still didn't know what in the world possessed my legs to crawl up from my seat, saunter past my fellow teammates with their eyes blankly staring at me and take up position behind the coaxial turret. My hands trembled slightly as its fingers curled around the controls, beads of sweat furrowing above my eyelids. Swinging the lug around, I lined up my sights with the alien-like tanks stomping at a glacial pace towards our hurtling vehicle. Without a second thought, I depressed one of the buttons as soon as the holographic display beeped red.

Instantly, the turret shuddered for a moment as it ejected a fresh HE shell at mach speeds at the geth armature. The shot was bang-on target, smashing against the sleek steel with tremendous force. Smoke billowed from the impact, temporarily obscuring the other two. I could not help but shout with joy.

"Hell, yeah!" I whooped. In response, the armature decided to return the gesture, sending a hail of electromagnetic coil rounds straight at us. Shepard had to change direction in a heartbeat to avoid the zipping fire.

"Less cheering, more shooting, Isaac!" she screamed from the front. Shit, I hated when my emotions got the best of me.

"On it." I shouted back. My finger stabbed the red button with extreme prejudice, unleashing a flurry of withering fire in their general direction. It was hard to aim properly, seeing as how she was spinning the Mako around like a damn top at a carnival. I guess my first shot must have been a fluke... Either way, my fingers felt callous against the soft rubber, only releasing its tight grip when the critical temperature warning sparked up across the screen. I quickly switched over to the more damaging cannon and repeated this process ad nauseum for the better part of five minutes. In that timespan, I managed to down two of the three geth tanks heading our way, their ruined wrecks crashing to the ground in spectacular fashion. The remaining one however was a bit of a hold-out. Even after a volley of direct hits landed on its hull, the damaged behemoth still rumbled forth with its glazen mechanical eye firmly affixed on our little machine. I snarled angrily as yet another round whizzed past the armature. Shepard was also at her limits. These things were delaying us from our main objective and she wasn't about to fail her first mission ever as the first human Spectre. A glint in her eye worried me when I peeked back into the front. Even Kaiden looked perturbed with her as she eyed the walking tank from the safety of her seat.

Suddenly, her hands twisted and turned, causing the Mako to do a 180 turn and facing the armature. Her foot depressed on the pedal and we were off to the races, sparring against a worthy foe. It almost reminded me of the ol' days when men were men and jousting was the way to show their honour and their valor. Now? Now it was just plain stupidity. But then again, when has anything regarding video games been sensible in real life? I lurched back with momentum as she charged forth, my hands slipping from the controls for a split second. The armature kept up the relentless barrage and this time, he was scoring more hits than I could invariably count. Wave after wave of gunfire smashed against the Mako's armor plating and each heavy hit juddered the vehicle so hard that I swore aloud when my foot accidentally connected with the stout ladder below me. I wasn't the only one hanging on by their seatbelts. Everyone was buckled up in their chairs and hanging on to the railings next to them for dear life, jumping up and down due to the force of the explosions hitting our vehicle. Only Wrex seemed pleasantly enthused about the whole enterprise, sitting back in a relaxed state and a crooked grin awash across his bullhorned hide. Ten seconds later, we had impact. The Mako crashed against the front of the armature with lethal force, knocking the doddering mass on its rear and no doubt scrapping its paint job. My head went forward and only a well-timed grip on the sides kept me from head-banging like a rock star on the hard surface.

"Isaac, now!" went her exasperated tone. I quickly shambled back into position at her words and took aim at the solitary Cyclops optic shoved up its slender neck. All it took was the push of a button to crack its shell wide open and watch it break apart at the seams. The armature glowed a fluorescent blue all over and my eyes grew wide with terror.

"Back up! Back up!" I yelled. Shepard needed no further coercion. She reversed our vehicle as far as she could from the wreckage. Seconds later, the geth tank exploded with a deafening and vicious overtone, sending shards of shrapnel and scrap metal flying in our vicinity. Some of it plinked harmlessly on the jagged surface. Others pinged off our Mako. If we had been outside, who knows how many of those things could be considered lethal? Breathing a sigh of relief, I clambered down the ladder with my good leg, cringing as the pain shot up from the other side straight to my spine. Seeing everyone still in one piece, albeit with fresh puddles of puke on the floor brought a tearful smile to my face, at their expense.

"Don't laugh, Isaac. This rarely...happens." Garrus mouthed off before upchucking another small chunk of lunch. Ashley looked absolutely pale and ashen-faced, her hands trembling with fright and her eyes glazed over the front. I can't blame her. '_She must be new to Shepard's hazardous idea of transport._' I pondered with a grin at seeing the tough no-holds barred woman looking about dead set to throw up. Tali and Wrex meanwhile were as calm as the eye of the storm, looking at the three of us with disapproving eyes, though Wrex made his look like he was dressing us down for a fancy party.

"Everyone okay back there?" Her demure voice overshot over ours.

"We're fine. Next time though, someone is driving." I yelled back, my feet enveloped in dry puke. The onboard automatic cleaning systems did its work, cleansing the floor of the back with neat precision and rapidness. I wish I had one of these things for my car. Cleaning the damn thing was more trouble than it was worth, especially for my fingers.

"Trust me when I say this, Isaac. No-one here is better than I am." Shepard retorted with a giggle and swaggering confidence. I was slightly taken aback for a split second, before joining on the laugh.

"You're joking...right?" Shepard merely smiled and took the helm again. The vehicle lurched forward with sickening momentum. Still standing on my feet, I spun about to face everyone else.

"She's joking, right guys?" I asked, still jesting. No responses.

Crap, I hate this job already...

You know how things are usually quiet in horror movies at first before the intensity ramps up a notch?

Tell that to the geth platoon showering our ride home with Spitfires. What the hell went wrong there? First off, there were not supposed to be any Spitfires in production at this very moment. The fact that the robotic overlords were being given an advantage by the godforsaken universe was kind of demeaning... and also pretty hazardous for my health. Secondly, what did this mean for future endeavours? Will the length of all three games collide into one gigantic mess of utter chaos and madness?

I had little time to figure that part of the plan out. Right now, we had geth troopers to deal with.

"Garrus, find a vantage point and give us some support. Take Isaac with you." She exclaimed over the comms.

"On it, Shepard." Garrus flapped his mandibles in acknowledgement. I grimaced at his words. Everything was happening so fast. The flood of thoughts about things I've never done in my life flashed before my eyes. Never lived to my full potential, never drove a car, never found love. Hey, you try finding someone who loves you when you're studying and everyone at school thinks only of throwing you under the bus.

"Wrex, I need someone to draw their attention. You think you're up for it?" Shepard grimaced as gunfire rattled their cover spot yet again.

"Heh, I'm always battle-ready." Wrex gave a big shit-eating grin to the rest of us as he moved into position. This was like crack to him and he loved every single second of it. I balked at his words, wondering whether I was truly ready for this. Fear dripped into my veins like an IV fluid drip stuck into my arm and it stung like a scorpion bite from hell.

"Tali, Ashley. Give me and Kaiden some covering fire while we relocate. This hunk of metal is falling apart and I don't want to stay here too long." Shepard barked off her orders in record time. Tali looked confused about something and it didn't take long to let her opinion fly out the door.

"What about us?" she questioned.

"We'll cover you when we reach our cover point. Everyone, move!" Shepard pierced the air with the last words, sending everyone into a battle frenzy. On her words, every player made their move on the battlefield. Wrex charged into the fray, his shotgun levelled at the ensuing geth troops and planting insane amounts of lead into any priority targets during the concurrent headlong battle charge. One of those said targets I watched get its giraffe neck shredded into fragments by the sheer force of his Claymore. It wasn't human granted, but the sight of the familiar white liquid spewing like a fountain from it reminded me of slaying marshmallow men in the Ghostbusters game. Oh, man was Stay Puft absolutely ridiculous in a sailor's hat... Ashley and Tali meanwhile raced into the designated cover point with a little aid of suppressing fire emanating from their comrades' firearms. As soon as the heat sinks fizzled out onto the ground, the remaining geth troops who were not contending with Wrex's imposing figure continued the onslaught, their robotic processes replete with nothing but utter annihilation. In that madness, Garrus and I miraculously managed to sneak away from the epicentre of the battlefield and reach a nearby abandoned watchtower. Taking point while Garrus covered my flanks, I took a deep, long breath and placed my hand on the rusty, cold metal. Hoisting my lithe body was not a big deal. I just hoped that the wind didn't have bad timing and blew my weak ass into the wind like a leaf in autumn. Now there's something to tell the grandkids... Every bar of steel that I clung to with my feet and hands, my nerves became supercharged with nervousness, manifesting as cold sweat running down my fingers and dampening the ladder.

"Hey, how long does it take for you to climb a ladder?" Garrus sarcastically notioned from below. Don't look down, don't look down. It's not scary if you don't look and... Hoooohhh boy, that's high.

"Sorry." I muttered incoherently. I was a mess, a sweaty, stained mess. Eventually, my feet was on firm ground above the battlefield. Motioning to Garrus who sped up the ladder, I took up position on overwatch, seeing the specks representing Shepard and the team traversing through the mess of buildings littering the way to the main entrance. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a lone geth hopper crawl on a brown silo and ready itself for a surprise for Shepard's unguarded rear. A present that was no question about it a sizzling zap to her spine. My breathing slowed to a crawl, my eyes lined up the shot and the finger curled around the tiny piece of metal serving as the trigger. Well, here goes nothing.

The shot flew straight and true, albeit off target a bit. You see, I was aiming for its glowing yellow Terminator eye. Instead, I hit ol' Arnie in the foot, dismembering it and rendering it completely useless for its prime directive. Another quick shot from Garrus finished the job and he looked at me with a handy acknowledgement of my skills.

"Nice shot, kid. Next time though, you'd want to aim just a little bit higher." Garrus jested, ribbing me in the shoulder blade. I winced slightly by the blow, but shrugged it off in good spirits.

"It was the wind." I pouted. Garrus laughed hysterically at that.

"Sure it was." He responded amidst laughing fits.

"If you two are buddy-buddy already, can you please give us some support? We're pinned down here!" Shepard's snarky overtones shot through the comms. Shit, I hated myself for that...

"On it." I acknowledged, setting my sights back on my scope. Immediately we got to work, shooting down stray geth troopers like skeets at a shooting range. My shots wasn't always dead on arrival, some of which merely grazed or punctured non-fatally. Luckily, Garrus was around to pick up the slack, something which I was quick to nod in thanks from time to time. For the next few minutes, this was the routine we followed. No doubt in the field below, Shepard and Wrex were having a blast mowing down targets left and right with impunity while the remaining three merely contributed to it, scoring a kill every now and then. I was expecting more of a challenge from these punks. How narrow-sighted I was...

"Incoming!" went Garrus' startled cry. Spinning my head in his direction, I noticed the problem. One lone geth rocket trooper was being tactical and had slipped away in the throes of battle to deal with the snipers, i.e, us. His rocket launcher's business end was aimed squarely at our shanty shack on stilts and I could see its beady, little robotic finger pull on the trigger, sending a high-explosive projectile screaming like a valkyrie into battle. Garrus jumped ship, diving off the raised platform as soon as his monocle optic laid eyes on him. Me? Wasn't so lucky... The rocket narrowly hit me as I reached the ladder, sending my feet sailing into the air and forcing me to hold onto dear life on what remained of the platform. You should have seen me back then.

I was basically holding on by a thread, the tip of my fingers scratching the surface of the dry, rusty metal floor and having my entire body dangling like a carrot on a stick from a great height. The geth trooper was advancing on us, its prime focus on the debilitated turian groaning in a heap down below. I panicked. This wasn't his time. This was never supposed to be his time. With desperation, I pulled out my Locust and using the remaining half of the thermal clip still jammed into the frame, I wasted the robotic prick like the Terminator. Each and every bullet riddled its torso, dropping the mess of wires like a sack of potatoes. Speaking of which, that comment made me invariably hungry at that time. The fun and games didn't stop there. My grip loosened and I fell down to the ground, landing with a dull thud right next to Garrus.

Every bone in my back screamed in protest at the fresh surge of pain shooting straight down my nerves, threatening to tear asunder at the molecular level. For a guy who never did well in P.E class, especially in dodgeball, this was a feat for me. Groaning and moaning, I rolled around in the dirt as I tried to contend with the pain.

"That was...fun." went everyone's favourite witty turian. He'd give Joker a run for his money.

"Yeah... Let's never do that again." I groaned in annoyance.

"Agreed." He laughed out. Rising to our feet was no easy task, but it was one we did, even with our broken pride. At least no-one saw our epic failure.

"Well, time waits for no-one. We'd better regroup with the others." I winced, wiping dirt off my cheeks. Garrus merely nodded.

"I'll take point." He said, his webbed feet already making a trail in the dirt.

"As if I'd let myself go first." I muttered to myself. Still for a first time, I'd give it a C+...

Eventually, our team regrouped right outside the entrance into the archaeological dig site. My nerves tensed slightly upon stepping into the dark caverns, cautious of any unseen danger and not particularly pleased with what we were going to encounter soon enough. Still, the show must go on... And boy was I hating for the next-half innings...

"Keep your eyes peeled, people. I highly doubt we're alone here." She whispered over a secure communications channel. '_No shit, Sherlock!_' I muttered under bated breath. It did make me ponder though. The armature that was supposed to greet us outside didn't show up for the party. It did help matters somewhat that something was changing, and for the better. But I wondered what would become worse in lieu of that. '_Can't be anything good considering my luck..._' I figured to myself. My boots sifted through the soil beneath me as my hands steadily tightened its grip around my weapon of choice.

"Rrrrrr..." went a low growl. Spinning like a top, I noticed Wrex growling dangerously at every outcasting shadow, snarling bitterly with every step. If I didn't know better, he was afraid of the dark.

"Something wrong, Wrex?" I inquired quizzically.

"Rrrrr... I need to kill something. My blood is boiling from this prancing about." Wrex commented to me. Yep, ol' Battlemaster Wrex needed a night-light just to get through the day. Score one for deductive reasoning...

"Can it, you two! Cover your flanks and stick together." Ashley ordered over the comms. A quick nod later and we were off to the races, with Shepard bringing the front and Tali taking the rear. Suddenly a burst of scything gunfire hissed out of the darkness, threatening to cut us down where we stood.

"Take cover!" Shepard commanded, sprinting for the nearest loose masonry she could squint at. I followed suit, legging it to the safety of whatever piece of engineering wonder was available. I wasted no time in putting rounds downrange, sending the geth troopers into cover. Wrex meanwhile had taken to the flank, moving quite spritely for someone of his stature and cutting down a geth hopper on the cavern ceiling with his trusty shotgun.

"Hostiles! On the right!" Garrus yelled out amidst the chatter, firing at the occasional burst of bluish flash to pass his retinas. Tali acknowledged his warnings, turning around to face them and blasting wide gaping holes in their chestplates with well-placed e armour-piercing rounds. More and more geth reinforcements poured in that I realized a more pragmatic, logical conclusion about the cripplingly weak armade outside. The bulk of their strike force was inside, rather than outside. I had little time to figure it out properly before a large geth bounded amongst the smaller ones, flanked by two repair drones armed with rapid-fire pulse rifles.

"Prime!" I heard Ashley shout over the noise. My gun swiftly spun about to face the geth leader. Hot, spinning lead dripped out of my gun in a steady stream, riddling its chest with bullet holes. I whooped with glee, the one rare moment when ignorance triumphed over wisdom. That was paid back by a stinging round that sliced through my left arm, tearing once pristine flesh off its bones. The pain was dulled by an equally numb feeling. My right hand instinctively wrapped itself around the wound, blood trickling down me. It was even worse when I saw that my attacks were completely ineffectual, due to the shitty drones that took care of it like a mommy's boy. So much for consistency...

"Isaac! Take out its drone support!" Kaiden barked into my comms.

"Gladly!" I shouted back. Snapping out of cover, I took careful aim with my sniper rifle at the hovering menaces. Time began to gradually slow down around me, in a figurative term as my irises focused on nothing but paying back for that infracture against me.

"This one's for me, assholes." I muttered in the nanoseconds before delivery. My finger depressed extremely on the trigger and continued to fire in a rhythmic tempo, kinda like those musicals most young kids would die of boredom from. It took a lot of rounds and a few cursed mutterings, but eventually both drones tore apart with a riveting explosion.

"We're not out of the woods yet! We've still got that Prime pinning us down!" Ashley grimaced as another burst of chaingun fire tore a chunk of rock from her coverpoint.

"Wait, where's Shepard?" I pondered aloud when my eyes failed to catch a glimpse of her. The rest of the team merely shook their head, also wondering the same thing. It didn't take long before we found out. Shepard came dashing gracefully out of the darkness, her pilfered shotgun blasting a clean hole into its peripheral systems. The geth prime, disoriented spun wildly in every direction, basically blind as a bat. She took this opportunity to place small explosive charges on its legs and run for the hills. The charges went off a moment later and shredded the robotic extremities with 'extreme' prejudice. The massive pile of scrap metal came tumbling down and no amount of glue was going to put Humpty-Dumpty back together.

"Well, shall we?" she rattled off nonchalantly. Of course, she had to act like a badass too. If it wasn't good looks, it's the fact that this broad could kill you with her eyes blindfolded. With a quick nod of affirmation, we headed off, deeper into the cavernous pits.

For the next few minutes, we encountered nothing but sporadic resistance from our Skynet-like hosts. It was starting to crawl on my nerves, so much so that I brought it up by accident.

"Hey, guys. You think it's a bit too quiet down here?" I inquired.

"Isn't that a good thing, Isaac?" Ashley looked perturbed.

"I just think something's off. It's not like them to have such a small taskforce for this mission." I replied.

"Do you want to get into a scrap?" Kaiden raised an eyebrow, looking quite intrigued.

"Hell, no. That'd be Wrex's thing." I pointed to our resident krogan.

"And don't you forget it..." Wrex surmised with a grunt. If there was a time when you shouldn't laugh, this would be the time. Sometimes arguments with krogans are technically one-sided. Just look at Virmire...

"Cut the chatter, people. We need to keep moving." Shepard silenced the conversation. Ambling forward, my arm started to throb in near constant pain. While it wasn't exactly gangrenous with pus or an infection, it still stung like a ball of needles shoved forcibly down your veins and nerves. My feet were on near autopilot, not wanting to slow down the team. My first injury... Something to put up on the wall of shame...

"Oh, my god..." Shepard suddenly gasped with her jaw literally hanging in the air. My eyes quickly moved to the center of her attention span, where every goggling eye was picking apart. As soon as I saw what had happened, I nearly hurled a chunk right there and then.

It was a massacre on an unimaginable scale. Bodies were strewn all over the place, blood oozing like a river across the board. Smoking guns and bullet wounds permeated the vista, the bodies no longer pristine as they used to be. Making out some sort of body armour on some of the bodies and white, stained coats on the others, I surmised quickly that this was the remnants of Liara's archaeological dig team. Christ, those bipedal machines really went to town on them.

"This is so f# (ed up on so many levels." I intoned in dread. Tali looked utterly pale at this point. Maybe it was the reminder that the geth were their fault and in turn her fault. But something clicked in the back of my head. Liara didn't have a team last time through and no-one else aside from her and a boatload of geth were supposed to be here. I felt a pang of guilt shoot through my veins when I realized my presence had changed things. For better or for worse...

"Hello? Is anyone there?" went a scared Russian accent.

"Someone's alive in here!" Garrus quickly relayed to the rest of us. Our search came up with a sole survivor, who was Dr. Irina Kurkov, judging from the stained nametag embedded on her coat.

"There, there. You're going to be fine." Shepard reassured as she checked her for grievous wounds.

"Papa...Papa..." she muttered incoherently, her eyes glazed over. Jeez, did I not want to imagine what that girl had to go through. It was hard enough to not think about my family, let alone anyone else's. I merely looked away under the pretense of watching the flanks.

"She doesn't look too good. Her lungs are filling up with blood right now." Ashley mused, looking over her condition.

"We can't abandon the mission." Shepard steadfastly responded. "But we can't leave her here either." She quickly added to the back.

"I'll take her. Call the Normandy. Tell them we have a medical emergency." I raised my hand as I spoke.

"Good. The rest of us will move on ahead, see if we can't find Dr. T'soni before more geth show up. I'll radio ahead to let them know to expect you." Shepard tossed out the orders. Grabbing the young Russian girl by her shoulder and applying pressure to the medi-gel covered wound, I had only one thing left in my mind.

Please don't let this girl die on my watch...

**Well, I'm stopping here since I have a ton of work to do in the wake of my re-entrance into the daily grind. I know most of you were expecting some sort of interaction with Liara and some changes to that scenario. I decided not to do so since no-one dies in that particular scene and there wasn't really much to talk about there. Let me know if that was a bad choice or a good one. I'm not picky. Anyway, have fun and be CO-OPERATIVE!**


	7. The Blues In More Than One

**Chapter 7 : The Blues In More Than One**

**Welcome, welcome to chapter 7. I'm writing this almost immediately after number 6 mainly because I want to give you guys some significant contributions before I return from the Chinese New Year holidays. Incidentally, Gong Xi Fa Cai! Let us continue our story shall we? Don't forget to like, fav and send in reviews. Your feedback means a lot to me...**

I don't know if my feet were on steroids in that brief run out the cave and into the awaiting arms of the Normandy. All I know was that I pedalled to the medal in short order, cradling the still-breathing body of Dr. Irina Kurkov. She kept mumbling to me along the way, pleading to me to let her see her father. I ignored her pleas, only intent on getting her to the Normandy and getting her patched up. Besides, it wasn't a strong suit of mine, breaking the news of their deceased loved ones to them. Hell, I'd probably drown my house in tears alone if my family members were to die unexpectedly... Anyway, my feet were stomping across the cave floor, reaching for the elusive ray of light within my grasp. Every nerve that resided in there went as numb as ice and just as cold.

As soon as sunlight grasped my eyelids, I glanced away briefly, overcome by the blinding light like a vampire in daylight. To be honest, I could think of a series of novels I wanted sent to the flaming pits of the sun itself... Stupid vampire with their diamond reflective skin... Sorry... Anyway, I spied the Normandy touching down on the soil right outside the cave, the ramp slowly lowering itself mechanically. Out stepped Dr. Chakwas, who wore a tinted hazard suit and came along with two others bearing a military stretcher bearing their Alliance insignia.

"How's the patient looking, Isaac?" she yelled over the dull throb of the engines in the background.

"Not good. She's got blood filling her lungs and several broken bones." I shouted back in despair. '_Please don't die... Please don't die..._' I muttered over and over again.

"Put her on the stretcher. We'll take it from here." She reassured me. Hesitantly, I hoisted her up to shoulder level and relaxed her down onto the thin blue fabric. I watched with grim eyes as Chakwas got to business, easily patching her up far better than the rest of us could. She wrapped a makeshift bandage around the bio-foam sealed wound to keep it in check and held two lithe fingers to her neck.

"She's still got a pulse. Help me get her out of here!" Chakwas snapped to the two soldiers standing next to her. As if like robots receiving their prime directive, they each carried one end of the stretcher and with ease raced up the ramp and disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

"I'd better go and check on my patient." Chakwas mused as she watched me look slightly depressed. She understood what it meant to see death in his unobstructed terror, no doubt sensing the symptoms of its withering effect all over me.

"You do that, doc. I'll wait out here for the..." I responded morosely at first, only to spin my head in full-frontal shock at the direction of the cave when a loud, rumbling noise filled the otherwise silent atmosphere. '_Oh, shit! The laser drill! Damn idiots..._' I surmised quickly. Shepard had to make a clusterfuck of a situation even worse. Tan-freaking-tastic! I raised my rifle and stormed off into the depths of the cavern yet again, not heeding the warnings Chakwas called out to me. I barely came up for sunlight before I crept back into the crevasses of the underworld. Boy, did this job suck like hell...

Halfway through the journey, I saw Shepard and our new arrival Liara T'soni leading the pack, the rest of the team ambling along right behind them. Ashley and Wrex made up the rearguard, mere moments away from being crushed under an avalanche of lethal rocks and stone.

"What the hell did you guys do?" I inquired as I changed direction mid-way and led the pack to the rays of sunlight up ahead.

"We used a laser mining drill to free the good doctor here." Shepard panted through her own exhaustion.

"Are you nuts?" I asked incredulously, keeping my lack of surprise in check.

"What? It was the only to get her out of that stasis field." Shepard shrugged her shoulders. I could not really believe myself. Was this supposed to be the saviour of the galaxy?

"Whatever. I'll save the pleasantries for later. Right now, keep moving." I sarcastically bantered to them as we kept up the pace.

"We're already doing that, Isaac." Shepard remarked wittingly. I merely shook my head and rolled my eyes.

"Well then, move faster damnit!" I could not help but bark out. Everyone hurried their pace, even the hulking behemoth grunting right behind my shoulder, his hot, bated breath sending chills down my spine. It did little to allay the constant threat of a cave-in, but I'll take what I can get from this crazy universe.

A large stone cracked into two cleanly in mid-orbit and came crashing down on both of our angles, forcing us to squeeze through a narrower gap. If the threat of falling rocks wasn't enough to dampen our moods, Tali squeaked in fright when a bolt of yellow energy zipped past her helmet, charring the stone right next to her. Looking up, we all saw several surviving hoppers clambering on the ceiling, taking directed potshots at us.

"Take them down!" Shepard barked out orders. Wrex quickly took heed of her words, aiming skywards and blasting a stray hopper off his feet. The robotic corpse came crashing down on top of us, bouncing off a jagged rock on the way down. Garrus meanwhile had gone trigger happy on the agile dirtbags, sniping one, then two and then three in a row while on the move, a feat I was absolutely resolute in that I would never accomplish. Not without his level of training at least... Shepard meanwhile demonstrated her biotic abilities by flinging a ball of purplish energy directly at a hopper, coating him in a stasis field. Said hopper was helpless in avoiding the avalanche of rocks trembling behind him and in the next blast of dust particles, he vanished under the soil. '_Well, at least I know Shepard's a biotic. That's something at least._' I strained to see some silver lining to this rollercoaster of a marathon.

Keeping up with the pace, we were soon clear of the rubble that once housed the archaeological dig-site and now probably held a few captive geth too. At least the grave robbers won't be hitting this joint anytime soon. I panted and wheezed after the run, my hands barely clasping to my knees in a valiant attempt to keep myself steady. Dust and dirt coated my fair skin and uniform, giving off a shade of brown that looked almost like dried poop. Now that was a disgusting thought...

"Whew. Glad we made it out of that shitstorm." Shepard tirelessly wisecracked, to Garrus' revolving eyeballs.

"By the skin of our teeth. Next time, we don't cut it so close. I haven't felt this out of shape since I ran from those thugs back on Earth." I gasped out with a dry wit. What? Can't a guy crack a joke without getting the red eye? Jeez...

"Well, at least we got who we came for." Ashley mused.

"Thank you for rescuing me. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come along." Went Liara's naive, yet calming tone. As a person, Liara was the girl next door. Shy, demure yet also waiting to show her claws at a moment's notice. And the body... My goodness... Fornax would probably do a whole issue's worth on that figure alone... Okay, stop thinking with your bottoms, kid...

"No thanks are required." Shepard responded. "Sorry, Commander Shepard, Council Spectre." She quickly rattled off to Liara while extending a lithe hand as a friendly gesture to her.

"Liara T'soni." She said while vigorously whipping her hand back and forth with such energy that I was almost afraid that Shepard's arm was going to pop out of its socket at any given time. "I assume you're not here to help me get my artifacts out safely?" she answered sadly, her periwinkle irises looking back at the pile of rocks now barricading the entrance to the cavern.

"No, we're not. We're here because we're trying to stop a rogue Spectre." Shepard plainly answered, no sugacoating behind her words.

"And how do I figure into this?" Liara responded.

"Your mother." She shot back to her. Liara reacted just as I expected her to react. Indifference, confusion. Perhaps a pince of doubt sprinkled in for good measure. I had to fight hard not to crack a 'your mother' joke. Somehow the prospect of being flayed alive wasn't exactly appealing to my demographic... Or any demographic at all...

"My mother? What's happened to her?" she warily inquired. I'm guessing the T'soni family wasn't exactly the best family on the block. Oh, who am I kidding? I already know this shit...

"She's... How do I put this? She's... working... with the enemy." Shepard paused mid-sentence several times, not entirely sure of the right words to say. Liara looked worried and her eyes drooped along with her mouth in depression.

"Oh... I see." She morosely said with a somber tone.

"Smooth, Shepard. Real smooth." I quipped sardonically. Shepard spun around with a glare in her eye and pursed lips in total irritation.

"You had a better way of breaking the news?" She retorted.

"Yeah. Not making sound like the end of the world." I had an answer for everything. Too bad I still don't know what I could change and what may change due to my presence. Though those two thought processes were utterly dwarfed by the hope that there is a way to get back home. After all, Toto needs a little dog food in his tray...

"Sigh... Anyway, we were hoping that you could provide some insight on the matter. If that's not too much..." Shepard trailed off, not wanting to overwhelm Liara with information overload. The joys of being a smart-ass...

"No... it's fine. I guess I'm part of your crew as right now, am I?" she smiled weakly to the rest of us. Our smiles in return were as weak as hers, but I noticed Ashley's lips bite on each other afterwards. Ashley wasn't exactly fond of aliens. And considering her family history, I'd say she'd be better off playing Ellen Ripley rather than this game.

"I guess you are. Come on, let's take this inside." Shepard motioned to the awaiting Normandy just out of arm's reach. With a nod of approval from our new asari teammate, we walked up the ramp in moderate spirits, thrilled by the success of the mission. I on the other hand had other things on my mind...

As soon as the team was let off duty before the debriefing while Shepard went to hand over a report to the Council politicians, I immediately made a beeline to the medbay as fast as I could. When I got there, I was greeted by an exhausted Chakwas, who may as well join a haunted house with the beady eyes she was fixing me with.

"Sorry, doc? Is this a bad time?" I murmured. Chakwas shook her head in a slow drawl, the tired state showing itself even in her stance. With a simple curt nod, I shuffled over to the bed where Irina now laid, peaceful and slumbering with an IV drip in her arteries. Christ, I haven't seen the inside of a hospital since I was 15 and I had dengue. Now here I was, knee-deep in the stench of excess blood and the sight of sanitized equipment.

"How's she doing?" I queried, looking down on the young woman lying flat on her back, oblivious to the world around her.

"Considering what the poor girl's been through, pretty well actually. She lost a lot of blood on the way but her condition's stable enough." Chakwas rattled off quickly, her eyes never straying from the lab results she had scattered across her personal workspace. I turned around to look at her for a second before swivelling back to Irina.

"She kept mentioning her father. Any word on that?" I recounted, remembering her lucid words as I was carrying her out of the cave.

"Yes... Dr. Alexei Krukov, head archaeologist and one of the deceased." Chakwas intoned sadly. I felt disappointed. That kid was most likely an orphan now and if I was correct, my presence was the catalyst for her father's untimely demise. Even then, I did not know if my presence was the only reason her family existed. She could have been part of the ether for all I knew.

"That's... That's messed up." I replied in my miserable tone, looking with a deep grimace at the patient.

"It's a common thing in war. Many people find it hard to swallow that pill." Chakwas stated matter-of-factly. She wasn't wrong. Most people who see war through the television don't really know the debilitating mentality those soldiers went through on a daily basis. I was one of them once... Not anymore since this shit started...

"And you, Karin?" I asked, knowing all too well her answer.

"Sigh... After a while at this, you just chalk it up to a natural occurrence. We're all going to die anyway. Just not everyone can get a peaceful send-off..." she remarked wisely. And there it was... The desensitizing nature of death viewed as often as a fat person views a hamburger...

"Yeah. Let's hope ours is not as brutal." I answered. Karin could only nod in agreement at my statement.

"Amen to that." She said. Looking down at the girl, I saw a small locket wrapped around her neck, the tan lines that thing produced making me all the more curious. With a steady hand, I lifted the locket from her still breathing neck a few feet off her skin and popped it open. Inside, a worn-out photograph of her and her father was framed in pure maritime gold. They looked so happy together. It almost made me want to cry right there on the spot, my heart yearning to rejoin my family once again. But a distant wish does not equal reality. With a heavy heart, I let go of the locket and heard it chink gently against her smooth skin. And I walked out the door, not eager to be there for another moment longer...

Everyone gathered in that cramped room for the debriefing and I wasn't too sure how this would play out. Of course, we all know that Liara will do some mystical thing, say 'embrace eternity' a whole lot. Then she'll say that the message hints at some end-time prophecy. Then Ashley will start being a xenophobic moron again and then scene. That would be the part where I exit stage left and never hear from this ever again. Or that was the plan...

As I seated my behind on one of the grossly dull-grey seats laid out in a circle, I noticed that everyone seemed a little on edge already. Wrex was fidgeting, his muscles moving in every which direction like he had ants in his massive hump. Ashley was pursing her red-pink lips, her white teeth gritting against each other as her arms folded over one another. Those were the expected reactions. Angry krogan looking for a fight like a drowning person gasps for air and a woman who most likely took classes from the Koo-Klucks clan on racism, only it was aliens in the crosshairs. But it was the others that baffled me to some extent. Kaiden seemed all-too eager to leave, checking his omni-tool from time to time and his legs twitching in place. Where was he heading off to after this? Tali and Garrus meanwhile seemed somewhat somber and neutral. They merely gazed at the door right in front of them, waiting for our leader to march through the door and bring our newest member along for the ride.

Speak of the devil... Here she walks in now.

Liara looked warmly upon the rest of us, dressed in her plain green suit. This is Mass Effect 1 we're talking about and pre-set armours and clothes were for sissies. She introduced herself to the rest of the team, who for the most part reciprocated her gesture with kindness and a warm smile. Well most... Ashley was not breaking from her xenophobic ways... I'll make sure to check that on the list... Soon enough, it was my turn to get the warm welcome.

"Hello there. I don't believe we've been properly introduced. Liara T'soni." She said with a genuine, naive smile.

"Isaac." I answered with the same tone. Liara up close as I've said before was gorgeous. Even the tiny facets about her were beautiful in their own right. It was a nerd's ultimate dream. Because let's be honest. Who wouldn't want to hit up an alien on impulse?

With that out the way, Liara walked across the length of the room and took her place, just as Shepard stood up to give her rousing speech of the day.

"Thank you, Liara. Now as you know, we've got to stop Saren from unleashing the Reapers on us. I know we don't have a lot of leads at this moment, aside from the vision the Prothean beacon implanted in my brain. But I'm hoping that... Yes, Liara?" She began at first, only to see the asari's blue hand shoot up into the atmosphere. Long hands indeed...

"Perhaps I can be of assistance."

"Oh, how so?"

"If we combine our neural networks together, I could try to make some semblance of sense over the visions."

"So, like reproduction for you, except without the whole reproducing thing?" I responded, scratching my head in a clear act of confusion. I should be in the movies, considering I can fool a military officer and five other badasses in the room with me.

"I wouldn't use that analogy myself, but yes. Just like...that." Liara blushed with a clear shade of pink. Oh, how I wished games could make that happen...

"Wait, wait, wait. That sounds a little dangerous. What if it doesn't work and you accidentally fry her brain?" Ashley spoke up, to my irritation. I had a strong urge to walk up to her and sock her in the face for that insult. Why the hell did I go for her again?

"There is a possibility, yes. But I'll do my best to minimize the risks." She tried her level best to reassure Shepard of the validity of her plan. Spinning over to Wrex, I quickly struck up a conversation.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" I mused, tilting my head closer to Wrex. I could feel his breath fuming over his facial features, the mist evaporating as soon as it came within range of my own.

"Hell if I know. I'm just here to kill things, not worry about the details." Wrex grunted as he watched Shepard and Liara discuss the plan while the rest of us remained onlookers.

"I'm guessing you leave that to the rest of us." I quipped. Wrex gave a weird tooth-laden smile, winking as he did so.

"Huh, you're not as dumb as you look." He admitted plainly.

"Coming from you, that's a damn compliment." I hinted with a touch of wit sloshed in for good measure like a finely made Caesar salad.

"Hah!" He barked out with an explosive tone. Everyone's eyes instantly swivelled to meet the two of us with an inquisitive ponder. Shepard of course opened her trap first.

"Something you want to share with the rest of the class, Isaac?" she morosely requested, staring me down with a glare only a disciplinary could give. I shrugged.

"Nothing. Just trying to crack wise." I meekly replied. Garrus and Tali could not help but chuckle at my wise-ass statement.

"Well, zip it. Now's not the time." Shepard ordered. I quickly got the gist of it. No point pissing people off. That tends to put the mortality rate for untrained whelps at a high bar.

"Apologies, Shepard." I said. Shepard immediately answered back to Liara.

"Okay, let's do this." She responded to Liara's question. Liara seemed to agree in retrospect, standing right in front of Shepard, whose platinum blonde hair was trussed up like a turkey in a neat ponytail.

"This won't hurt, I promise. Embrace eternity!" She spoke as she clasped her palms around Shepard's temple. In the games, we saw visions. In the real world, the only thing me and the rest of the team were subjected to was the change of her emerald irises into dark black holes, mirroring Liara's to a tee. For a minute or two, they remained locked in place, vanishing into their mental madscape and no doubt seeing flashes of dead Protheans whizz past their eyes. Near the end, something went off the rails though. Liara seemed to tense up, her posture becoming rigid and stiff and all colour draining from her face. I chalked it up to inexperience for I believed just like me, she wasn't accustomed to the harshness the Reapers no doubt inflicted on the Protheans. The process stopped all of a sudden and Shepard collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Ashley was quick to call her out on this.

"What did you do to her?" she was quick on the draw to accuse. Liara was fast on her explanation, almost like a salarian on speed.

"Nothing. She's just tired. Mind-melding is a...tiring process." Liara moaned in a slight pain as she struggled to prop herself off the ground.

"You okay, Shepard?" Garrus intoned as he rushed over to her side, almost shockingly fast if I had to put it. One minute he was watching them stumble around, the next he was ambling over to her, a worried look on his face.

"I'm fine, Garrus. Just peachy." Shepard remarked sarcastically. Hey, she gets to crack wise? That's some double standards...

"Well, I can tell you this. The Protheans didn't just up and vanish. They were systematically destroyed by the Repears nearly 50,000 years ago. The vision was a warning signal. For help..." Liara quickly gave a brief summary of the vision in the most terrified tone I've ever seen spout out of her mouth.

"Help that never came..." Shepard finished off her thoughts. Liara could only shake her head in a flaky nod of agreement.

"Exactly..." she told us.

"Well, I guess we've got more of an incentive to stop Saren now. Everyone, dismissed." Shepard answered for the rest of us. As soon as the word dismissed vibrated through my earlobes, I quickly shot up from my seat with all the enthusiasm of a grapefruit in season. I had heard enough. It was bad enough everyone was reminding me of what we were expected to accomplish. Having long-dead jackholes tell us the same damn story, in dreams no less was hitting the ballpark way out of my league. As I was leaving however, Liara seemed to fix me with a long, inquisitive stare as my feet shuffled past her in an awkward state. I merely glanced at her, wondering what the hell had gotten into her to give me such a piercing look. But that was soon put to the back of my mind when the doors slammed shut automatically behind me, the whizz of the mechanical gears shuttering the inch-thick metal plating into position.

I spent the majority of my time rifling through my omni-tool, willing to learn how the damned machine worked. If I wanted to take another breath of this universe, I had to get busy living or get busy dying. But for the life of me, I could not work out the kinks of the thing, only producing electrical sparks the first time around. I grunted as I felt a small surge of electricity streak through my body like a jolt of lightning, cursing under my bated breath for all the good it'd do. There was only one person on this vessel that even had an inkling of what this thing's true potential was and I was racing over to engineering as quick as my skinny, little legs would allow me.

"Oh, hey Isaac. You seem upset." Tali spoke her mind as her sheathed ears behind the glass mask peered into mine with some semblance of curiosity.

"That's because I am. You'd think living in the lap of poverty would help acclimate you to technology. But no, this damn piece of junk just won't spill its secrets." I sardonically quipped. Tali chuckled in a low pitched-tone to Engineer Adams' amusement. I shot him a cold glare, which silenced the man temporarily.

"Have you tried saying nice things to it?" She shrugged, offering the best suggestion she could muster in that technology cluttered brain of his.

"Oh, haha... Have a laugh at my expense, why don't you?" I laughed out loud.

"Trust me. It's highly entertaining. So I assume you need my help." Tali went along with the joke, motioning to the troublesome piece of technology strapped to my wrist.

"More than anything. I'd rather not crash the ship trying to work out the kinks." I answered in the positive, throwing in my concerns with my own level of competence with machinery. That'll teach me for not taking those computer classes when I had the opportunity...

"Okay. Here, hand that to me." Tali extended her gloved, webbed fingers. Peeling the microcomputer off my skin, I gave it to her for further analysis and her own little touch in the mix.

For the next hour or so, I was given a brief crash course on the device's functionality in minute detail. Tali walked me through the motions fluidly, rattling off the basic attributes assigned to each particular manufacturer, something I drew parallel with the Borderlands approach to weaponry. She even ran me through the Overload and hacking modules pre-loaded on the machine. I definitely have to write a thank-you note to Larry as soon as I get back to my abode on this ship... Anyway, the basics were easy to grasp quickly and Tali even had the kind sense to let me test the modules on her own little combat drone. At least she hadn't taken to naming the thing yet. But still, it wouldn't hurt to nudge her along. That was the plan, after sending a bolt of debilitating EMP energy its way.

"Good. You managed to hit on target this time. I think that's an improvement." Tali remarked with a hint of impressed vigour in her undertones.

"From the last 25 failed attempts?" I groaned with delight, seeing all my hard work pay off in a flash of blue crackles and a dissipating of transparent nanocomputers. So, maybe I lied about the whole 'fast' part of the procedure.

"Well, I didn't say it was a big improvement." Tali conceded with a smirk.

"Heh, thanks for the vote of confidence." I mumbled to her.

"Anytime." She smiled. I stood up from my prone position and bade to shuffle out the door. Before I did though, I had an urge to edge her along.

"Hey, you ever got the urge to name the little guy?" I asked all of a sudden, eliciting a response of a turned head in my general direction.

"No. Why?" Tali retorted, confused by my line of questioning.

"Just thought that maybe you should consider it. Gives it personality." I shrugged, giving her a wink and a curt nod before walking out the door.

"Okay..." Tali answered as I left the room, her voice merely a whisper from behind the metal plating breaking up the spaces.

Walking back to my room, I bumped into the platinum-blonde beauty in charge on the way there, her lowered head a clear indication of trouble. But then again, I had little time to correlate that information since the both of us were flat on our backs within seconds.

"Oww... Damn it, Isaac. Do you watch where you're going?" she shouted, infuriated with me. She was clutching her head in obvious pain, whether from the visions or the fall I didn't know.

"Sorry about that." I murmured, still scratching my head as I hoisted myself off the floor. I quickly to aid her, lending her my hand and watching her grab ahold of it and pulling herself up to her feet.

"Sigh... Don't worry about it. Just stressed out is all." Shepard admitted, frowning and letting her brows crease slightly. Stressed? Her? If anyone was going to be stressed, it was definitely me. But I couldn't tell her that. So I did the next best thing.

"We're barely through the warm-up act and you're saying you're stressed. I'm just hoping the next mission doesn't end up killing the lot of us." I spat out, shocking her to her bones. She still kept up a steely front. For cracks to emerge so early in this war... It was scaring me to be sure. We still have to fight it anyway...

"Still... It takes its toll on you." She mused sadly.

"Come on, you're Commander Shepard. You're an N7 operative, a Council Spectre for crying out loud. You're better than this." I responded wistfully, listing off her accomplishments. I wisely chose to leave Akuze off the list. I doubt that would brighten up her day.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She conceded, her frown turning upside down in record time. I pressed up the assault.

"Hey, look. The ship and its crew are behind you 100 percent. We got this." I told her, waving my arm around the ship. Her emerald-green eyes took in the whole scene, seeing sense in my words. I guess reality sucks compared to the things we imagine. She's not a supersoldier. Just a regular girl like everyone else...

"Alright. Hey, thanks." Shepard answered warmly, looking at me with a kind eye. I returned the gesture.

"Don't worry about it. You're doing just fine." I reassured her before she stalked off in better spirits than before. So here I was, one mission down and at four more to go. What could possibly go wrong?

**So sorry about the last part of this chapter. I had a mental block on what to write and I ran out of ideas. So I accept all the backlash I'm probably going to get from the last two vignettes. Other than that, I wish you all a good weekend and have a nice day...**


	8. Reach, Flexibility and Wit

**Chapter 8: Reach, Flexibility and Wit**

**Finally back to some coherency after the last dismal ending to that otherwise decent chapter. Let's hope this mistake doesn't repeat itself and inspiration strikes me as quick as I can write. So strap in, folks. We're in for a bumpy ride...**

It was hard to close your eyes and count sheep. Not when the slow rumble of the engines right outside is the constant to your own snoring. And you just short-circuited your lightbulbs with your own stupidity while fiddling with your omni-tool and discharging a pre-loaded Overcharge. What's even worse was when it came back online _two freaking hours_ later, in the middle of a relaxing trip to the dreamscape. When I finally managed to get an ounce of sleep in, I was arguably short-fused, temperamental and a wee bit cranky. But that was the least of my concerns. What really worried me was the freaky memory that conceded to appear before me at this stage...

FLASHBACK

"Son, get down from your room right now! You're going to miss dinner!" My mother called from the ground floor up to my room. Her voice boomed with intensity and a stern outlook, something I resented at that point in my life.

"Go away, mom. I'm not hungry." I shot back with a withered tone stuck in my tonsils. I heard her footsteps tiptoe up the staircase and walk the length to my room, always in twos.

"Young man, come out of that room this instant!" she rapped hard on the door three times in unison. I kept to my little corner in the darkness, huddled down on the floor and not tearing my eyes from the brown tiles that dotted it.

"I said leave me alone, mom!" I sputtered, some of the fight already running out of me as my stomach grumbled in the telltales signs of hunger. Outside, my mother was fuming like crazy. I could hear her mutter to herself excessively under her breath, like she was dressing me down for that rich kid's party down the block.

"Fine... I'll leave your food outside, just like the last few days..." she finally conceded the battle, small in scale as it was. I merely walked up and tapped gently on the door once to signal my agreement to the plan. Her footsteps died away slowly but surely within minutes and I took the opportunity to snag the tray on the coffee table outside and hoist it back into the comfort of my safe haven. Looking back, I could barely remember the steaming, piping hot bowl of freshly cooked ramen wafting its scent throughout the atmosphere. All I could recall was my row of teeth sinking into my food with a stout smile on my face.

All of a sudden, I heard several voices emanate from the floor below my feet and it piqued my interest. So much so in fact that I laid down on the ground and propped my ear to the floor, listening in on the conversation below. My joy department of course was flattened somewhat as I pressed myself down on the floor, but that's going a bit out of reach...

"He still won't come down?" my father sighed as I heard the ruffling of day-old paper. He must have been reading the daily newspaper the old-timer down the lane delivers. My mother gave a swift sigh of her own, followed shortly by a somber musing by her.

"No, dear. He won't. I just don't get why he's so angsty all of a sudden..." she spoke her mind freely and without inhibition. My mother was a straight-to-the-point kind of person. Something you'd expect from a teacher of secondary students...

"He got bullied at school again last week. It's not unexpected of him." My father admitted to her, sounding morose as he spoke. It was the talk of the whole school. The kid who got crammed into a locker for three hours and was considered absent by the rest of my teachers. The outburst of laughter that taunted me at every corner of the marble-white halls was a definitive low-point in my school life.

"Still, it has gone on long enough. Matthew?" My mom called to my brother in a soft-spoken manner. I heard his feet shuffle uncomfortably towards the dining room.

"Yes, mother?" he asked with slight trepidation, wondering if he was in trouble again.

"Could you please go talk to your brother? He's as stubborn as a mule again." Mother told him strictly. Silence followed soon after, a peace I've never known...

"Should I bring Erin with me?" he inquired to our father in general.

"Yeah, son. That'd be a capital idea. Run along now." Dad replied with enthusiasm as I heard his newspaper wrinkle in the throes of the breeze coming from the rotating fan above them.

"Okay, dad." Erin answered with a bright spirit still stuck in her.

"That's my girl..." he proclaimed with pride. I felt stupid at that point. It wasn't worth putting up a front if my family was going to suffer for it. Hell, the only people I wanted to suffer was the moron who shoved me in the cramped locker and tossed his socks in as an afterthought. That smell was never going to come off with just one full-body rinse... With a heavy heart, I went to the door and quietly twisted the lock open before plopping down on my soft, fluffy mattress with my face pressed against it. I consigned myself to fate...

END FLASHBACK

Before I knew it, reminiscing about my childhood brought some semblance of grogginess out of my system so that I could see from the port window. Apparently, we had some unfinished business to attend to on the Citadel because the mag-anchors were tethered to our wings like oil on a seagull. My mouth collapsed open to release its untimely yawn, the cold blast of air rushing in to replace the dank smell of my own breath no coughing matter. Leaping off my bed with a deep sigh, I shambled across the room and made my way outside with a heavy heart, hoping... nay praying that the dreams would never haunt me again.

It sucks when you have to walk beside people you know is pre-destined for some unfortunate destiny that they never wanted thrust upon them. And yet that's the way life goes. It's even worse when you find out that previous attempts to circumvent this decision have gone horribly wrong. For some strange, inexplicable and unexplainable reason, my omni-tool seems to be able to access the fanfiction archives stowed away in the ethers of the internet, along with the videos on Youtube, the posts on Facebook and more. As soon as I realized that, I was furiously tapping away at Mass Effect fanfics, just to find the one fic where things turn out alright in the end. No such luck. Let's list them off, shall we? Crippled survivor who wishes he was dead, lone survivor is indoctrinated by the Reapers and almost kills Shepard and lone survivor gets gunshot wound to the chest. Three strikes and you're out, son. I'm starting to think that whatever route I choose to obey or not obey in this case will lead to an outcome I will not like. But I have to try right? I have to try my best. After all, if I'm going to be living this life for the rest of my predictably short lifespan, I'm damn well going to go down fighting.

On another subject however, it was heartbreaking to see the news report update in real-time, particularly the ones involving my sudden 'disappearance' from the face of the Earth. The videos of my parents sobbing away, begging whatever entity who took me away from them to bring me home. My siblings doing whatever it takes to find me and get me home. What made it absolutely disheartening was my inability to speak to them, even with the tools of the Internet trade at my disposal. All of it was something I could see through my irises yet be helpless do nothing about it. There was no way I wasn't walking out of that situation without a stream of fresh tears dribbling down my face as I took it in a mostly-private locale. Home seemed so far away... so very far away...

Drying my tears exasperatedly, I steeled myself for what lay ahead and rejoined the team as they ambled by the Citadel stores, looking for supplies and gear. Shepard, myself, Liara and Garrus decided to hit the Wards for supplies while the others went to the Presidium for the Council-approved stockpiles of weapons stashed in the C-Sec academy. We walked in silence for most of the trip, even during the long-as-crap elevator ride to get there. It was only when we were about six or so hallways from our destination did someone finally shatter the dull quiet nature of the group.

"Do you think Dr. Kurkov will remain on board as a medical officer?" Liara suddenly spoke to me with a slight tremble in her voice. I had to guess that losing her archaeological team in such a brutal fashion must have shaken her to her core. This wasn't the tough, cunning and sly Liara of Mass Effect 2 or 3. This was her fragile persona, not used to conflict on a grand scale or even being part of something greater than herself or ancient history.

"After what happened to her, I don't think being on a warship will do wonders for her mental state." I replied morosely, unintentionally drawing parallels to my own existence. What a hypocrite I felt like... Fortunately, she was too perturbed to notice and focused her attention to Shepard.

"Shepard, what do you think?" the blue tentacle-like being queried the vibrant, beautiful human walking in front of her dressed in casual wear.

"I don't know, Liara. We could use all the help we can muster. But it's her choice in the matter, not ours. We just have to play things out." Alison stated plainly in her commanding tone, clearly expressing that it was not a matter we should get involved in. To her credit, Liara took all of five seconds to show her displeasure with her inaction before finally slumping back into her depressed state of mind.

"I guess..." she mumbled.

"You alright, doc?" Garrus flapped his mandibles as he spoke, still clad in his blue-hue armour.

"I'm fine, Garrus. Just a little disturbed. She's just a woman torn from her father at such a young age." She thought of Irina and of the family she lost that day. It was going to be a part of her. Her future was going to be one long conflict if she's going to follow Shepard on her wild ride. So was I, but I already knew that...

"Such is the life we live now, Liara." Garrus intoned wisely, seeing no reason to dwell on the particulars when the big picture meant so much more.

"I hope for our sake that doesn't turn out to be true." Liara dejectedly responded. '_No luck there, kid. Best find somewhere else if you're looking for something less incongruous._' I instinctively pondered with sarcasm.

"You and me both, doc. You and me both..." I answered her, trailing off at the end as soon as Shepard's emerald green irises glared at me. Slinking into the background and remaining unseen and unheard felt like a better option than the multitude of ways she could seriously mess me up.

Eventually, our feet finally halted outside a nearby restaurant that seemed to heavily frequented by a lot of C-Sec officers. Looking around, the neon lights that flashed the store's namesake was kinda overdone, even way back in the 21st century where I was from. Garrus and Liara didn't seem to register my facial expressions all too clearly, brushing it off as my... attempt to make peace with what I signed for. Shepard on the other hand was a whole different can of worms. As soon as she commanded Garrus and Liara to pick up the rations from the store, she took a standing position right next to me and folded her legs between one another. Her lips from my angle of perspective looked utterly mind-blowing, so much so that I completely missed the first few words she spoke.

"It looks pretty tacky, huh?" Her words flew right past my head. If it were bullets, I'd be grateful. As it stands, now I just feel like a moron for not being observant enough. Well, mistakes were meant to be rectified...

"I'm sorry...?" I asked her to repeat her inquiry.

"The sign." Shepard told me, her finger pointing directly at the neon sign hovering above the shop. She almost looked like she wanted to wag it enthusiastically. "You look like you agree with the overall tackiness factor." She made her assumption. She could just very well be the next Sherlock Holmes if she went a different path. Alas, we're not here to play fanfiction. Oh, wait...

"Yeah, well... I may not have seen a lot of signs in the slums but even I can say that sign is quite... tasteless." I summed up my thoughts in one neat sentence.

"Glad you agree." She gave me a wide smirk as she leaned back on the banister, arching her back as she did so.

"Don't get used to it." I muttered, folding my arms and turning my eyes back to the front of the restaurant. Shepard seemed taken aback by my choice of words, spinning her head around and looked at me funny.

"And why is that, Isaac? Are you threatening to disobey my orders?" she questioned warily.

"Trust me, Shepard. If I ever wanted to disobey your orders, you'll be the first to know." I morosely answered her.

"Awww, that's so touching." She cooed satirically. I had to all but stifle a chuckle from forming in my mouth, for fear of breaking my bad-boy persona. Rule number one for scoring with chicks that look like they were carved by a master craftsman... Always keep your bad-boy persona alive. Girls just eat that stuff up. Soon enough, I spotted Garrus and Liara shamble out into view, lugging several cartons of canned and frozen foods in their hands.

"They're back." I shuffled over to them immediately right after I tapped on Shepard's right shoulder guard lightly. Taking those things off their hands was easy enough. Trying to get it off the ground after I clumsily dropped the box like a sack of potatoes onto my foot. Needless to say, it was the scream heard throughout the Citadel.

"Jeez, you really need to keep your voice down. And buff up. You're as skinny as the skin of a vorcha." Garrus jested, seeing me struggle to keep my hands wrapped around the crate long enough to hoist it up in the air. Beads of perspiration was already beginning to form on my face, staining what was already a fashion crime and making it stink like a skunk. I half expected Garrus to hold his beaky nose at any point.

"Oh, quiet you. I'm not used to this. That's all." I stuttered out a lame excuse, finally managing to keep her steady and in my arms.

"Do you want me to help you with that?" Liara offered demurely, peering from right behind the stack of crates in her own arms.

"No...No... It's quite alright, Liara. I've got to learn at some point right?" I reassured her, not wishing to trouble her any further.

"Uh, sure... Well, if you need my help, just... let me know." She spoke innocently and with uncertainty. Try as I might, I couldn't pinpoint her exact feelings on that day itself. Was she lost in her own fantasy land, considering the paths this storm could take her? Or was she trying to be as friendly as she possibly could?

"I appreciate it." I replied with a curt nod of my head. It seemed to have the desired effect, snapping her out of her self-induced trance. With a quick nod in return, she returned to trailing behind Shepard and Garrus who were already quite a distance in front of us. Guess I'd better get a move as well...

"Come on, people. We're losing daylight." Shepard spoke in her commandeering tone of voice. You know, it's quite shocking and somewhat strange that Shepard can switch from a witty-all smiles kind of girl into a hardened commander in a heartbeat. It makes you wonder if everything about her is kept at equal lengths from one another, even her mental musings. But what was I doing wasting time on worthless trivia when I still had several cartons of food to haul across the Citadel, lest I find myself staring down the glares of a lot of hungry mouths...

When we got back to the Normandy, still firmly resting in their magnetic locks, I saw Dr. Kurkov or rather Irina step out onto the ramp in her traditional lab-coat with a medium-sized duffel bag on the ground right next to her. It wasn't that hard to draw a conclusion and by the looks of my teammates next to me, I wasn't the only one who was seeing this.

"Well, looks like we answered your question, Liara. She's choosing to leave." I sarcastically mentioned to Liara. Glancing at the asari standing parallel to me, I could see my choice of words were poorly chosen. The girl looked utterly numb and devoid of emotion, save for sadness and guilt.

"I... I don't know if I can stomach seeing her go like this." Liara made her voice heard, even if it was still quite squeaky and mousy.

"Hey, it's not your fault. You can't anticipate things like this." I told her, looking stern as I did so. She didn't seem to heed my advice, still looking quite forlorn as she noticed Irina tepidly waiting for her ride out of here.

"But I feel like I owe her some form of recompense." She revealed to me.

"If you really want to help her, then just offer to be there for her. Don't push her off the edge with a speech on moving on. Just..." "Just try to understand." I rallied behind my speech, trying to give off a vibe of wisdom when clearly I wasn't the wise shaman. But it paid off. Liara seemed to take my words to heart and nod politely to me.

"I... thank you, Isaac." She bowed her head in gratitude.

"Don't mention it. We'll leave you to it." I patted her on the shoulder with a hand I freed from my arduous labour. Liara handed over her share of the work to Garrus and Shepard, before walking up to Irina and attempting to make small talk. Shepard seemed intrigued by my therapeutic advice, so much so that she just had to be Miss Know-It-All.

"How do you know so much about psychology?" Shepard queried me in front of Garrus, her sharp senses paying more attention to the two woman in a deep conversation merely a hundred metres away from us.

"I grew up in a slum. I wasn't illiterate if that's what you're implying." I sarcastically answered her.

"I'm just surprised. That's all. I never pegged you for a guy with a golden heart." She put on a bemused face. Garrus seemed to agree, planting a wry smile on his own mandible-laced face.

"You don't know me that well then, do you?" I snapped at them rudely.

"I guess not. Come on, we have to stash this stuff in the stores." Shepard put us back on track. Within minutes, we had managed to load up all of our provisions for at least another three months or so. The others also returned with their arms laden with small arms and several crates stuffed with polymer protection pads, quickly deciphering its usage in cuddling the potentially volatile heavy weapons that were stashed inside. Ashley seemed a little disgruntled with Liara's sudden presence but it was within the confines of her personality so I let it slide for the moment. Wrex meanwhile was utterly incensed on the way back into the Normandy, complaining about 'prancing about and shopping like a bloody girl instead of busting heads.' Well, that was Wrex for you. Bloodthirsty and eager for the thrill of the fight to course through our veins. Kaiden and Tali kept quiet during the loading process, seeing nothing to add to the group dynamic at the very moment. Liara came back soon afterwards, somewhat shaken but assured us that she was fine. That was the last I heard of Dr. Irina Kurkov for a long time... A long, long time...

Being back on the Normandy felt like going home. It made me feel like I had stepped on solid ground yet again. I guess this is what they call getting acclimated to something in a short amount of time. It had been an hour or so since we left the solitude of the Citadel on our next roadtrip in the ethers of the galaxy beyond. Another note in my digital journal at my own private desk and I felt even more famished than I had ever been. Looks like a trip to the mess hall was in order...

Arriving at my intended destination, I could see some people milling about in their respective tables, amicably chatting and discussing the latest news and gossip. It reminded me of my years in high school, except of course without having to worry about big punks coming up to me and demanding my lunch money. At least, I hope it won't turn out like that. Making a beeline for the line as best as my skinny little bones could carry me, I awaited my food with a sense of anticipation and dread at the same time. Because let's be honest, who here hasn't cringed at the thought of cafeteria food at least once?

A young, amicable recruit was on hand to show me what was on the menu. I took him up on that offer.

"So what's cooking today, Private?" I asked the green soldier. Green as in inexperienced, not in Hulk-terms...

"Glad you asked, Isaac. We have scrambled eggs and sausages for the colloquial connoisseur in mind. We also stock some great noodles with beef bits sprinkled over if that's your style." The man happily rattled off, his hand waving over the selection on hand right in front of him. Somehow, I felt queasy at that particular moment. Both options sounded enticing and quite interesting yet tempered by the stigma of cafeteria food. Let's hope this kid at least had the decency to wash his hands before handling the goods.

"I guess I'll take the... uh... scrambled eggs, please." I finally made up my mind, due in no small part to the impatient stares of the crewmembers right behind me.

"Good choice. Next!" The recruit shouted to the next person in line after plopping a spoonful of yellowish-white circles and complimentary sausages on my tray. Taking a seat down at an unoccupied table, I dived in for the kill. Now, this was supposedly a once-a-month thing where they splurge on the really good stuff and let the crew have some sated appetites and a cheerful mood for the battles ahead. But digging into the meal, I almost had to choke on the sheer disgusting nature of the food. Was this supposed to be good food? My parents could do way better than this and my dad doesn't even consult a cookbook. I knew my expectations had to be lowered since I wasn't being pampered anymore but this was just... awful... Blech... I can't imagine what the other 29 days could possibly entail if this was classified as 'good'. I did however resign myself to at least finishing this pile of trash. Waste not, want not...

Still grumbling over the terrible quality of the provisions served, I chose to let off some steam with a martial arts practice to keep my edge sharper than ever like a samurai who polishes his katana every once in a while. Thankfully, the training area was well equipped to tackle any form of rigorous exercise. Punching bags, weight lifting apparatus, mats and more awaited my expectant eyes and it just looked jaw-dropping amazing. I was motivated to do some kind of workout, just to see and feel how high-tech this place looked. Remembering my previous run with firearms in which Ashley gave me a disapproving face, I was determined not to make a repeat of the same mistake.

First off was the punching bag, man's favourite thing to hate and a great stress reliever. My left hook went first, the knuckles of my fist colliding with a crunch against the foam and leather-draped bag. The bag flew a few centimetres backwards, akin to a breeze in the wind. I was thinking, '_How freaking weaksauce was that? That thing didn't even budge an inch or two!_' No matter, we'll try again. The right hook had more of an impact this time around, the chain holding the bag in mid-air clinging from the force exerted upon it, even if it was just a whimper in the silent night. Again and again, my fists connected with the damn thing. Again and again, I felt my body move in tandem with my blows, especially my hips which twisted quite professionally with the rhythm I set myself to. Pretty soon, I was keeping a comfortable pace. One, two, one, two, one, two...

"Seems like you know your way around a bar-fight." A familiar Turian voice filtered through my ears all of a sudden. I lost all concentration and momentum at the moment, my last punch completely missing its intended target.

"Jeez, Garrus. You scared the living daylights out of me." I told him off in a raised tone, marking my irritation at being interrupted.

"Sorry about that. I was just finishing up some calibrations on the main batteries." Garrus drawled out in his usual tone. Oh, god... Calibrations... again? Seriously, how many times must he calibrate... his... gun before he's satisfied with the damn thing? It's like he has some insecurities with his... size.

"Okay... So you came here just to keep in tip-top shape." I spoke, still thinking about the implied double entendre that Garrus let soar above his head. Garrus gave me a low chuckle in response.

"Aren't we all just a little bit rusty?" Garrus dryly commented, spinning around and waving to Kaiden who just stepped inside. I raised an eyebrow at his comment. Was he referring to himself or everyone else?

"You're telling me." I surmised, agreeing with his assessment in the end.

"Looks like the punching bag got the best of you this round though." Garrus intoned with a smirk, motioning his head to my white knuckles. Taking my eyes off him and onto my fists for a change, I could see what he meant. Thick, red patches of blood plastered over the space between each finger on my palm was readily apparent to anyone who looked my way. Surprisingly, I felt no pain at all. Not one iota... That must have been an achievement for me. Can you imagine the Xbox logo popping up right in my face and congratulating my prowess at being injured with 10 Gamerscore? Hah, that would be absolutely epic...

"Ah, it's just a flesh wound. It'll go away in time." I tried to convince him of my own baddassery and that I was one with the cool kids club. Somehow, Garrus 'Calibration' Vakarian didn't seem to take heed of my words in the slightest. On the contrary, he took it as a challenge to the throne.

"Well, in that case? Up for a duel?" He consequently challenged me. Getting the opportunity to watch Garrus in action first-hand? Hell, yeah I was going to go for it. Of course I'd have to take a few punches and kicks to my posterior. And the fact that he has reach but no flexibillty... Hmmm, why did I agree to this in the first place again?

"You're on! I'm gonna whoop your ass!" I answered enthusiastically, stepping away from the punching bag. The Turian's mandibles started to flap in shock, as if he was intending for me to back down from a fight. No such luck there, pal.

"We'll see about that, Isaac." Garrus smiles as he starts walking towards the small arena in the center of the room. I deigned to follow in his footsteps. The arena was quite simple, a round circle made from a pure white line. No fancy ropes to keep us in like caged rats. No fat referees to keep track of the score. No rules at all. Needless to say, it was my kind of scene. Garrus took one end of the circle while I occupied the other end. Our hands and feet took a fighting posture almost by instinct, he opting to stick to basic Turian fighting styles (Well, I assume it to be in the heat of the moment... Yes, I'm altering the story. It's my story damnit...) and I chose to keep to my own set of skills taught to me by my taekwondo master.

"Rules are simple. Three times out of the ring and we crown our winner. Aside from that, every dirty tactic, every sly move in the book is acceptable. You ready?" Garrus listed off the conditions for victory in a dull tone that I wondered if his knives were just as blunt.

"I'm rea..." I began, only for Garrus to use said dick move by swiftly closing the gap between us and send a flying uppercut my way, knocking me back and right out of the ring. In retrospect, I can honestly say that it was unexpected. In the heat of the moment however, **Owwwww!**

"That's one. Come on, give me a bit of challenge here." Garrus jested, beckoning with his webbed finger at my prone form. I groaned in pain from his impromptu attack, clutching my jaw and vainly attempting to set it straight.

"Oh, you are going to regret that, Vakarian." I snarled in response, though it was meant in good sport. My feet managed to find firm ground and lift my body off the hard floor and stabilize my standing. Stepping inside, I was instantly wary of his movements and his posture in a manner I myself found quite pessimistic in nature.

"Come on then, Isaac. Let's see your moves." He keeps his eyes centred on me and tries to circle my position. I called his move and did the same, dangerously close to the edge of the ring. He made the first move again, his three pronged feet taking him right to my face. No doubt he was expecting an easy kill. Well, I decisively chose to duck and watch his fist fly aimlessly at the air. My own knuckles came up to bat, their target his soft squishy stomach. He doubled over in pain and I took the opportunity to crawl out of his stance and get up behind him. Then it was just a matter of planting my foot up in his grinder and send him sprawling out of the ring. Score one for me...

"I believe that's a tie." I laughed when I saw him grimace at the thought of defeat in his grasp. That just wouldn't fly for him.

"Not for long, Isaac. Not for long..." Garrus sarcastically commented. Now it was his turn to pick himself up off the floor. Walking into the ring, I had the chance to look up from the confines of the ring. Seems like some of the crew wanted in on the sightseeing tour, including one familiar face.

"I see you're enjoying yourselves." Shepard gave me an all-knowing smile to the both of us.

I didn't have time to answer her snarky musings before I had to get back into the fray. Garrus immediately resumed his natural progression of assaulting me, sending a flurry of punches at my torso section to catch me off-guard. Dexterously dodging it with a well-timed step back, I threw a reverse-spinning kick at his face followed shortly with a backthrust. Both attacks failed to connect as Garrus sidestepped the two attacks. Unfortunately, that also left me in a vulnerable position and he capitalized on the opportunity. His fist came crashing down on my skull and I felt a sizeable force crack down on my head, sending me into a tailspin. The room began to look completely blurry and spinning from the concussion, so much so that all it took was one light poke of his finger was enough to make me keel over and stumble backwards out of the ring. Landing on my rear was not a relaxing experience, nor was it made any less painful by the cheers the crowd bestowed upon Garrus. This was starting to look like those old wrestling movies, particularly the Rocky Balboa films.

"You alright there?" I heard a mumble from a crew member as my world still felt like a top in a tornado. My dizziness persisted as I clambered back to form and re-entered the ring.

"I'm... still... goof..." I slurred, raising my hands weakly. Garrus gave a curt nod and stepped forward, ready for more. This time around, we were evenly matched despite the handicap I had to deal with. Both of us succeeded in halting several of each other's blows with well timed parries and blocks while also taking a beating ourselves from time to time. Five minutes elapsed and neither of us were still willing to give quarter to the other. At least one thing persisted in my vision...

"Time to end this." Garrus snaps at me, annoyed that he had allowed this to carry for too long. He lunged at me, attempting to deliver the killing blow. I tried to sidestep his latest attack and instead felt the onset of dizziness take its course yet again. My legs gave way and I wobbled in place until I collapsed on the ground. Not outside of the ring mind, but close enough that a shove was all it would take to K.O my puny hide. Garrus came closer to me and stared at me wearing the biggest shit-eating grin he could find on his mandibles.

"Well, I guess I won this round." Garrus talked in a nice, peaceful and friendly tone, giving me his hand to signify the end of the bout on good terms. I raised my own hand to reach his, my fingers barely brushing against his. But it wasn't for the reasons I intended. My hand, acting as a fulcrum, used his hand to yank myself upwards... and to push his own body down onto the ground. This time however, his body went the distance and he smiles wryly when he notices his predicament.

"How about a tie? I can deal with that." I countered his offer. Garrus seemed content with that. It wasn't every day that he found someone he deemed his equal.

"Good game plan there, Isaac. You seem to know your stuff." Garrus grunted out as he was helped to his feet by two crew members holding on his shoulders. I smiled as I patted him on the shouder, my breath hitched and yearning to express my exhaustion from the physical exertion. This was the most exercise I ever got in my entire life combined. But I felt it was worth it. Save for the bruises I'll be nursing in the morning though...

"Hey, you got your firearms. I have my extremities." I jested to him. Garrus was almost about to retort my claim when Shepard stepped into the conversation.

"Well, well. That was a good show you put up for the crew. I've never seen this many bets on a match in my whole career." She cheerfully informed us. Great, now I really feel like Sherlock Holmes in that Downey film. Then again, that movie was the only good one out of the two so far...

"I get a cut of the profits, right?" I assumed, holding my hands out expectantly. Shepard threw her head back and laughed quite loudly that I glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and a look of confusion.

"Uh, uh... You have more than enough credits in your bank account. I think I'll keep this one, boys. Thanks for your patronage." She divined, tapping away at her omni-tool and looking more rapturous with its figure to appear on her screen. Without a single word, she left the room along with several of the crew members in a bout of glee. Garrus and I were left to stare at the doorway she just left through and collectively scratch our heads.

"Uh, Garrus? Is it just me or do you think Shepard's the real winner today?" I intoned as I snapped out of my trance.

"Yep, we're the losers this time..." Garrus confirmed my feelings. Yep, Shepard took us for suckers this time. So let that be a lesson for you kiddies... Sometimes fighting against one another will benefit someone else far removed from the conflict... And you don't mess with Shepard... Like ever...

**Well, that was fun to write. I admit that the fight choreography could have been a little bit more creative but I didn't want to keep this for another week or so and deprive you guys. I hope this chapter is up to specifications. As always, be sure to like and favourite this fanfic so that I'll have some motivation to keep going and I'll see you next time... Have fun and be CO-OPERATIVE!**


	9. Cold Shoulder

**Chapter 9: Cold Shoulder**

**Welcome back. Wow, you guys really like this story more than anything else I have made. Must be the loyal fanbase. Why is it that the Bioshock games are lauded with such great and dense storytelling and still only have about 900+ fanfics in check? Must be just me... Anyway, enough about that rant. I want to thank you guys again for the continued support. It means a lot to me, especially when you are stressed out from college, driving lessons and meeting deadlines. Argghhh... So much to do... Oh, sorry. Here's the next chapter... Now where did I put that note?**

Let's be honest here. Anyone who lives in the regions lining the equator has no right to claim they can stand the cold. I've known some friends who have come back from their machismo mannerisms in the more freezing climates complaining about the intense colds. How is this relevant? Well, we're going to Noveria, which is an ice planet. And there are no specialized suits. Just some plain old armour to keep up warm and the smell of gunpowder to carry along into battle.

That was pretty much my sum experience stepping off the ship with Shepard and Liara to meet the proprietors of this fine place. Even before my feet clambered out of the airlock, the cool, icy breeze was there to give me a 'warm' welcome. Jeez, this was cold. Where was Isaac Clarke's snow suit when you really need it?

"You okay there, Isaac?" Shepard noticed me trembling noticeably. '_Oh, what now?_' I found myself thinking.

"I'm bloody shivering. What do you think?" I retorted back as my legs felt like gelatinous jelly in the wake of another cool breeze. Liara looked at me tepidly with some degree of concern but one quick shake of my head was enough to convince her that I was fine. Amazingly she took the bait and kept a glacial pace towards the nearby checkpoint, Shepard and I bringing up the rear.

"Come on. It's just the cold. You won't get frostbite." She joked, even as my skin felt like it was about to shatter.

"Says the trained veteran." I commented dryly, my wispy finger shaking in extreme cold at the stripes tagged across her shoulder guard. Shepard glanced briefly at it with her emerald eyes before re-averting it back to me.

"Huh, you're right. That does factor in." Shepard chuckled. Was it just me or did I feel a Joker/Garrus vibe from this persona of Shepard? Did they swap bodies? No, wait... Joker would probably have fun with it first... Never mind... My focus at that point spun sharply around when Liara's voice echoed in my eardrums.

"Uh, Commander? They're coming to meet us." Liara informed us. Three soldiers were walking up to us, coated in their traditional uniforms and brandishing service weapons that seemed a little behind the curve. Make no mistake though. Those things were still as lethal as the day they left the factory floor.

"I'll handle this." Allison reassured Liara and took point. Bringing up the rear, I gave her a questioning face as we ambled up behind Shepard. The only look she gave me back was one of equal confusion, topped off with a weak smile as if to say, '_Well, she knows best. I'm sure everything will be just peachy._'

"Commander Shepard. I was told you'd be along for some important business." Captain Matsuo stepped forward, flanked by Sterling and a turian. Oh, boy. This won't end well one way or another.

"That's correct." Shepard responded with authority. It was to be expected. Shepard is a higher ranking officer than the three goombas most people won't remember five years from now.

"Excellent. I'm afraid you'll have to hand in your weapons before I can let you in. Proper procedure. Surely you understand." Captain Matsuo kept a cool head and extended her arm, predictably to secure their weapons in an orderly fashion.

"I understand that I'm keeping my weapons. That's my proper procedure." Shepard retorted, keeping her hand on the holster at all times. Captain Matsuo motioned to Stirling, who took out her rifle from behind her and raised it squarely at Shepard.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Commander." She shot back in a neutral tone. Another motion of her hand and the turian was doing the exact same thing.

"So must I." Shepard sadly intoned, whipping out her sidearm and pointing it at Matsuo with lightning reflexes. Almost by instinct, Liara also readied her weapon, taking aim at Sterling with a look of concern awash on her face. Of course I was left to take the nameless turian with my own firearm. '_Five minutes in and everyone wants to start firing. Can't we all get along?_' I sardonically moaned within my subconscious. This was like watching a Mexican standoff in Red Dead Redemption, only with space magic and stuff to fill in the blanks. Thankfully, Gianna was right on cue to keep us from blowing each others' heads off.

"Stand down, Captain Matsuo. They check out. Let them in." Parsini forewarned over the comm link. With what appeared to be a heavy sigh, Matsuo lowered her weapon and beckoned to her compatriots to do the same.

"Fine, Gianna. Stirling, Machariel. Stand down." She ordered. Without a single hint of insubordination, aside from Stirling who gave her a withering glance, they did the same. Shepard meanwhile gave us the same signal. I was all too happy to do this diplomatically and by the looks of Liara's relieved face, so was she.

"Sorry about that. We get a lot of pretenders and we need to check them out." Matsuo apologized, extending her hand out again. Shepard scoffed at the gesture, opting instead to let words do what they were meant to do. If this were a debate, she'd get gold medals all across the board.

"So long as they don't point those things at my crew again." She gritted her teeth as she stalked past them without another word, shoving the turian aside with barely contained rage. At this point, I had to assume this particular Shepard was leaning more towards Renegade rather than Paragon. And I so hated being a bad guy. But I dug my grave, so what's a little more digging just to make the hole nice and deep? Liara and I hesitantly followed behind her, our guns stowed away and our faces contorted into apologetic overtones for our leader's short fuse.

"Duly noted. Welcome to Noveria." Matsuo commented before tagging along and dismissing Stirling and Machariel to their original posts. Stepping inside, I caught a glimpse of a place I barely remembered. Stop me if I'm wrong but this place was by far the weaker portion of this mission. The offices looked as bland as the white textures they used to be rendered. Everyone seemed far too well dressed for a shindig at a company outpost, plus the guards weren't exactly looking quite hospitable at the moment. It was a case of being somewhere entirely hostile to a degree and it did little to allay my nervous willies from jumping out of their seats. Liara appeared to be in the same boat, though looked even more at ease with what was happening, even with her stake in this conflict. It can't be easy knowing your mother went off the deep end. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if that happened to my parents, let alone my siblings.

But I digress. My memory was hazy for this portion of the event, mainly because every other aspect was more prominently featured than this particular espionage side story. Speaking of which, wouldn't it be funny if Archer just showed up and started going off on his wacky antics. Yeah, that would really lighten the mood...

"Isaac. Earth to Isaac?" Shepard's voice echoed within my ears, her fingers snapping once then twice to grab my attention. I shook my head in compliance, rubbing out any thoughts of foolish grandeur out of my head.

"Gah, sorry. Just lost in thought." I quickly apologized to Shepard, hoping that I hadn't pissed her off entirely.

"Well, unlose yourself. We need to get to the garage. Hopefully we can hitch a ride to the research station." Shepard ordered, motioning her head to the garage up ahead. Oh, yeah. The mission. Right. Totally forgot about that...

"Yeah, that sounds wonderful." I murmured sarcastically, inciting a disapproving look of disdain from the veteran soldier. She stalked off to the garage without another word. Great, now I was in the deep end. Liara saddled up next to me, looking deeply worried about my state of mind for some odd reason.

"Are you okay, Isaac?" she questioned, matching my pace as we followed Shepard through the corporate offices to the garage.

"I'm fine, Liara. Don't worry about me." I reassured her weakly. She seemed to accept my foundation-less excuse for the moment, which was great since I really didn't feel like answering anyway.

"Sorry. Just wanted to check." Liara told me in no uncertain terms.

"I said I'm okay. I'll catch up, alright?" I told her irritably, not wanting to hear another coddling remark from anyone for at least another two hours. Gah, being treated like a child was the worst, especially when you already knew that about yourself from day one. On the equivalent of militia, I'd only classify as a kid soldier playing around with tools I didn't fully comprehend. And they'd be right...

"Okay." Liara finally accepted defeat, glancing one last time before quickening her pace and reaching Shepard's side in no time flat. I really did like Liara at times, but right now her insistence on butting into everyone's beeswax was really annoying to contend with. Just give me something to do. Great, now I sound like Wrex on a bad day...

I was all geared up for a guard to halt us dead in our tracks, tell us we need to get a garage pass, then be directed to Gianna. Then afterwards, we'd be asked to gather some evidence on some corrupt dealings for no apparent reason other than to prolong our stay here. And then... Oh, crap. I'd have to shoot a bunch of cops, actual living human beings. So far the only things I have shot at were geth and that didn't exactly bring an emotional impact as much as killing flesh and blood would do. Was I ready for this? Was I prepared to do what was necessary? Or would I balk at the last minute and cry home to mommy?

Thank goodness I didn't have to find out. Shepard was in front of us, talking to the guard with a level of surprise echoing back to us. Liara and I took this time to scan our surroundings and take in the room. For an outpost built on a frozen hellworld reminiscent of the Lost Planet series, it seemed cosy enough even if it did possess elements of corporate propaganda. Kiosks promoting the newest product of another nameless company were lined up in a row like ducks at the far end of the room, a small gaggle of passers-by pausing from their routine briefly to watch another desperate attempt to pander to the bull-headed. A security/information desk was situated in the middle of the room, manned by Captain Matsuo. She seemed engrossed in her paperwork but I caught her glimpsing at us from time to time for no apparent reason. Maybe she was still sceptical about us. Maybe not. Who knows? All I could think of was how much it would look like Wall Street if there was a cornucopia of screens right above that same desk.

Liara tapped me gently on my shoulder to grab my attention, causing me to spin around to face our beloved leader. Apparently something was confusing her because she ambled back into our midst with a perplexed look plastered across her face for some reason. Was she shocked that the guard blew her off? Or did something else happen?

"Hey, Isaac. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Shepard motioned to me with her lithe finger as she shambled on by. Liara and I both looked at each other with a curious glance, as if to say, '_What did you do this time?_' Resigning myself to fate, I followed right behind to a nearby pillar, which cast a small shadow over our bodies and contrasted oddly enough with her demeanour. I felt a lump rise in my throat for some inexplicable reason, but that could have been accredited to nervous jitters.

"What's up, boss?" I questioned her as soon as she seemed content with being out of earshot of most of the people crowding the room.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" Shepard reluctantly sighed as she whipped out something from her pocket. My eyes grew wider when I realized what it was. Somehow, she had managed to claim a red garage pass without any incident whatsoever. To me, that seemed like a victory. No need to involve ourselves in office politics. No need to shoot anybody, even in self-defence. What could be better than that? But Shepard seemed far more sceptical for some ill-contrived reason, the aura of her misgivings present as always.

"How did you get that?" I finally asked after having my fill of seeing her twirl the card between her fingers.

"From the guard. Courtesy of one person. You." Shepard explained, jabbing me in the rib. What? How? And then I realized... Oh, right. Larry. He must have phoned ahead. Man, who was that old fart? And how did he have so much influence over the port authorities? Quickly composing myself, I scurried to find a suitable answer.

"Me? That can't be right. I'm just an ordinary civilian. I've got no clout with the Noveria authorities here. How could I possibly score us a garage pass?" I did my best to hide my knowledge of this turn of events. Her eyebrow raised one level upwards at my statement. Allison sure didn't look like she was buying it one bit.

"You tell me, Isaac." Shepard remarked dryly, waving the card back in my face.

"I'm as clueless as you are." I retorted, shrugging my shoulders as I said so. She seemed to glare menacingly at me for a few seconds, before her posture finally took a chill pill and settle into something more relaxed and calming.

"You're not lying." Shepard blew a tuft of hair out of her face.

"News flash, Shepard. Lying to you has not been a productive exercise." I ironically commented in a condescending tone. She drew back from me at last and nodded her head slowly twice.

"Okay... Well, we have the pass. That should suffice. For now." Shepard told me. I merely nodded in approval and followed her back to Liara, who was fidgety and tapping her foot impatiently waiting for the two of us. A quick nod from Shepard was enough to placate her for the time being and we quickly set off to the garage.

As expected, some of Matriarch Benezia's troops were waiting for us when we opened the garage door and stepped inside. Each and every one of them were clad in sickly-green armour and boasting rifles, shotguns and submachineguns for this bullet-sampling party. '_Out of the frying pan, into the fire._' So much for avoiding the inevitability of killing. By instinct, Shepard kicked one of the nearby metal boxes directly at the closest threat she could see, the edge of the box smacking into the turian mercenary with a bone-crushing thud and sending him reeling back. Shepard wasted no time in yanking her rifle from her back and snapping off a quick three-round burst into the target's chest. The turian fell backwards in a haphazard glaze, his eyes rolled right to the back of his skull. Fresh blood dripped like a fountain from the deep wound as his body fell to the ground like a dead weight. Imagine seeing that in slow-motion. Imagine seeing life slowly ebb away in a heartbeat and knowing it was either him or me. That's what happened to me. Time seemed subjective to my brain, a notion I no longer understood in those few moments.

I had to quickly snap out of my trance and swiftly move into cover for an asari commando leading the charge was ready to fire. I barely managed to dodge her lethal projectiles as they flew right across my head. Liara meanwhile was glowing a bright blue, extending her arm to the squad with little fear left in her eyes. All of a sudden, I watched as three of the troopers present were lifted upwards by her biotic singularity, drawn in into a gravity well they had no hope of getting out of. It was only a matter of picking them off one by one like a game of Duck Hunt, her pistol snapping to each target with lethal precision as each round found its intended mark. Even after that, the two remaining troops were still at the ready and in the fight.

Watching the asari commando leap after Shepard in a haze of blue, I barely noticed the other mercenary, a human male roughly my size tackle me out of nowhere and send me sprawled across the floor, breathless. Talk about actually picking on someone your own size. Now, you may be wondering how this ends. Surely if I were to die in this encounter, I wouldn't be having this conversation with you guys. So yes, it ended as expected. His body was quickly on mine, pining me under his weight. His sidearm came roaring out into play and the tip of the barrel was directly pointed at my tip of my nose. I reacted fast, using my hands to push the barrel out of the way and use his own body strength against him. Thank goodness I did, since five nanoseconds later, my ears were ringing from the concussion of the wayward shot he pulled off at the ground right next to me. That distraction was enough to warrant enough time for him to re-aim the deadly weapon right at my face. I found myself thinking, '_This is it. This is the end for me right here._'

All that musing did nothing to prepare me for what came next. The mercenary's head suddenly exploded into millions of chunks, showering with viscera and brain matter in the aftermath. My mind went numb and blank at the show of violence right in front of me. I think I even managed to swallow a wayward chunk by accident. A trip to the toilet was definitely in my future. As the headless body laid motionless on top of my body, by some strange notion I pushed it off with trembling hands. It slumped back to the ground and just laid there right next to me. I had no strength to stand nor even move. All I could do was gasp and pant in terror and numbing fear. Looking up for a split second revealed my saviour, a breathless Shepard aiming a pilfered shotgun squarely at what used to be the mercenary's skull. Her arm never wavered from its firing stance, not once lowering even a fraction of an inch.

"You okay?" she asked. I mumbled something back to her, which I still can't recall. She seemed to take it for a yes, so who was I to complain?

"Yea...Yeah..." I mumbled, still horrified by what just happened. It was like I was comfortably living in my little fantasy when blam, I was hit by a bus on the route to hell. The urge to upchuck was literally forming on the tip of my tongue and the smell of decaying flesh did little to allay those feelings.

"Goddess... Here, let me help..." Liara stepped forward and tried to help, extending her arm to me. In my angst driven moment, I slapped it away violently, causing Liara to back up considerably.

"I said I'm fine!" I spat out angrily in her face, wanting to be left alone like I used to be back in my old days. Crap, here it comes...

"Sorry... I uh... think I need to throw up... Blerggh..." My mouth finally gave way. A steady stream of sickly green puke poured right out of my mouth in an unhygienic manner. Each puddle of puke made me sick to my stomach just to look at and even worse, it started to mix in with the curdling blood pooling right next to it. If green puke wasn't bade enough, red puke was even far worse. What's next? Yellow puke just to make out the traffic lights?

"Agghhh... F *(... Just f#* ..." I swore loudly, picking myself up from the floor as the last of the vomit dripped right off my lips. Jeez, this was gross as hell...

"It's never easy the first time around." Shepard lamented, seeing in me what she had seen in a lot of other people. Disgust, sheer minded numbness in their legs. Fear. And all the other lame things we never associate with heroes. If this is what heroes do all the time, then I seriously need to reconsider dressing up as Batman for Halloween.

"No kidding, Shepard. No freaking kidding..." I mouthed off angrily, wiping off excess puke from my lips with a spare cloth rag I found lying on the table. Sure, I knew it was more than likely that thing was used to clean oil spills but in that moment, I just couldn't give a damn about it.

"We'll give you a minute... Come on Liara. Help me with the Mako." Shepard brushed a tuft of platinum blonde hair out of her way, shouldered her rifle to the straps of metal on the back of her armour and entered the Mako parked in the garage. Liara gave me an apologetic look that seemed fake and offensive before calling back to Shepard soon afterwards.

"Alright, Shepard." She replied, disappearing from sight and huddling into the Mako along with her. Me? I just yanked a chair out of nowhere and sat my pudgy rear down for a moment just to wrap my head around. Who was I kidding really? I wasn't cut out for this. Never was and never should be. Even as a child who was constantly bullied, I could never find the courage to stoop to their level. Why should I be them just so they will stop doing what they've always done before? Taekwondo classes were the same ball game, apologies flying and furious every time I felt like I had hurt somebody too badly. Hell, even my brother always admitted that I was a bit wimpy and soft-hearted. I took that as a bloody compliment, one deserving of another squirt of water with my water gun.

But this was what I chose to be, right? Was this the life I signed up for? I know reality can never compare to the things people dream up of in video games. Hell, I've seen far more splendid ideas come out of the Bioshock team if anything else. I bet somewhere in the world, some rich snob was thinking on how best to bring the cities of Columbia and Rapture to life, minus the civil wars and the misguided systems at play. Enough about... that... Could I conceivably move forward from this? Was it possible?

Somehow, my feet found common ground and crept back to the ajar door of the parked Mako. I could hear from the frame of the door Liara and Shepard engaging in small talk and doing a pre-check. Of course, I had to expect that those two could shrug it off like nothing. A soldier who's seen nothing but that in her tours of duty and an archaeologist in the mould of Lara Croft. Wonder what that makes me? Middle management? I rapped lightly on the hull of the vehicle and stepped inside into the cramped quarters. Both Shepard and Liara spun about in their seats to watch me walk up those steps into the vehicle, closing the door right behind me as they did so.

"All stowed away?" Shepard commented as she radioed ahead to the communication tower to open the gate. My head remained bowed down. I just wanted to shut up and drive. Even her crazy antics would be a welcome reprieve from the debilitating firefight.

"Just drive, Shepard. Maybe I won't throw so much this time." I muttered in a coherent state to her, still bowed down in silence.

"Suit yourself, Isaac." Shepard scoffed in response, hitting the accelerator and starting us off on a bumpy ride to the research station. Snow scattered the landscape from time to time and visibility was reduced to near zero. It was a miracle how Shepard still managed to keep a level head and drive this hulking monstrosity down the path to the research station. She seemed to be able to do it all with little fuss on her part. What could possibly beat that?

Me, on the other hand kept to moping about the back of the metal box on wheels for as long as it would allow me. Liara on the other hand wouldn't leave me alone...

"Hey..." Liara smiled weakly, acting as politely as she possibly could while holding her palms together.

"Hey... Shouldn't you be up in front with Shepard?" I replied, motioning my head to the figure bent over the controls as the vehicle swerved from left to right in the midst of another strong wind.

"What?... Oh, that... She can take care of herself for the moment." Liara reassured, taking a seat right next to me.

"Any reason you wanted to come back here?" I asked her. She simply shook her head at the idea I suggested.

"Just wanted to see if you're alright." She explained, looking at me with her dark-blue eyes. Every time I see her, she acts concerned, like I was like some precious china vase to her. It was creepy and endearing at the same time to be honest.

"I'm fine, Liara. I'm more concerned about the both of you rather than me." I answered depressingly.

"Why's that? Neither of us got hurt." Liara asked, predictably confused by my admission.

"No, but if I falter, then there's a good chance you both might get caught with your pants down... Uh, I mean..." I stumbled at that last part, considering the double entendre laced in unintentionally.

"You'll be fine. Trust me. You've got our back. We have yours." Liara patted me on the shoulder with a smile. In a way, she was right in a certain sense. At least I wasn't alone. Then again, I was alone in facing the harsh realities of what needed to be done. That much she could not understand, no matter how hard she tried.

"Thanks. I...uh... ahem... like to be left alone for a bit, just to gather my thoughts." I mentioned, wanting to sort out all the shit that I've been through in the last hour or so. Introspection was best done alone in most cases.

"Of course. Whatever you need..." Liara understood the intent behind my words, standing back up and walking right into the front end to assist Shepard with the final leg of the journey. For the moment, all was right with the world. Peace and serenity was deeply calming in the wake of adversity. But it was foolish to think it would last.

"Armature dead ahead!" Shepard suddenly spouted, veering off course and avoiding the huge metallic death machine on her first go. From where I was sitting, it was hard to tell whether or not she was kidding. The hull shuddering under the weight of repeated fire silenced all objections to that statement entirely.

"I'm on it." Liara took the helm, saddling back to the rear and climbing up into the turret right in front of me. I felt my body shake left and right as bursts of pulse rounds smacked against the chassis of the Mako, sending sparks of electricity flying as I clambered to the front.

"How far are we to the research facility?!" I shouted, fumbling to reach the seat and strap myself in.

"Close! We can expect more to show up!" Shepard replied hoarsely, her eyes never diverting from the road. The fog however had more surprises than just an armature as shown when a god-forsaken geth rocket trooper suddenly sprang out of nowhere directly in the course of our flight plan. Needless to say, small robot against giant vehicle. Small robot loses. And in such a visceral, white mess splattering our windscreen.

"Oh, crap!" I exclaimed as we drove on in the sunset. The armature had by now vanished in the distance, its pudgy legs no match for the Mako's speed. Consider that for a moment. That hulking piece of machinery can't match a bouncing betty of a vehicle that goes at a snail's pace? Hah, so much for 'advanced' technology...

"Son of a... Must be trying to set up a roadblock. Liara! Watch out for any barriers up ahead!" Shepard barked out her orders to Liara.

"On it, Shepard!" Liara acknowledged, keeping her eyes peeled on the horizon. About fifty metres ahead, I heard the cannon echo with a resounding boom that shook the Mako slightly in its axles. Seconds later, we were driving past the wreckage of white and blue barricades along with the corpses of several geth constructs. Score one for the asari archaeologist... Shepard's hands kept on the steering wheel, occasionally veering to alter their course and to avoid the odd barricade set up on the side of the mountain.

"How much farther?!" I impatiently asked amidst another torrent of rifle fire smacking against the metal plating.

"The more you ask, the further it will be!" Shepard responded in kind, annoyed with my constant complaining. I only had one thing on my mind and that was getting the hell out of this death rally.

"Cripes! Well, there can't be any more surprises." I remarked, just as a shell landed a little too close to home. She looked at me with disdain for a second before averting her attention back to the road.

"Don't be too sure, Isaac!" She grimaced, making a hard right and nearly sending me off balance onto the floor. I wasn't entirely sure if that was by accident or intentional. Either way, that last swerve was more than enough to clear the gap.

"No targets, Commander. We're all clear." Liara radioed to us with a sigh of relief. I heard her pull away from the controls and climb the ladder back down to join the rest of us in the cockpit. She looked exhausted by any stretch of the word. And I couldn't blame her. This was far more tiring than a 10km marathon and I barely budged an inch on this craft...

"Finally... And just in time." Shepard remarked as she pulled the vehicle to a stop right outside the facility. Just in time too as the storm faded away for a while and we were treated to a large facility towering above us. It was amazing. The building was gargantuan in scope and scale, multiple levels cutting each and every corner of the structure. Several stairs and ladders connected these floors to one another. Who knows how the interior looks like? To me, this was the sight to behold. Not as good as the Citadel but close enough to my understanding. And as a guy who lives in a country near the equator where the word snow is a rarity, it was jaw-dropping to see actual snow for the first time in my life. In a word, enthralling.

"Whoa." I let my mouth drop to the ground in awe. Shepard looked at me funny, like I hadn't seen anything like this back home. '_Was she on to me?_' I nervously pondered, only to watch her relax back into her command persona.

"We'd better get moving. Storm's coming in and I don't want us caught out here without proper gear." She plainly spelled out her orders. The two of us nodded and saddled into the back, prepping our gear as we go. Before the door opened and the cold air was let back into the limelight, I had an epiphany. Perhaps it would not be so bad next time. Maybe this was a form of growing up. I mean, I've been told I act like a child now and then. What could be better than a blessing in disguise? I wouldn't know until I faced the future and right now my future was looking like asari commandos that flay your mind and a swarm of hungry bugs straight out of any Alien film. Well, no time like the present to rip off Ripley...

**I do apologize for the lack of quality I feel has been injected here. School work is getting worse by the day but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging. Hope to see you, leave your likes, favs and reviews and as always have fun and... be CO-OPERATIVE!**


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